She Who Battles Death


 

Love me now.

Love me now, before my skin droops

And flubber accumulates around

What is now my narrow waist.

I will grow my hair long for you

And eat only lettuce for you.

I will spend hours in front of the mirror

Fretting meticulously over the size of my pores for you.

I will wear only revealing, tight-fitting clothing for you.

Hurry up and claim me now

Before I join the rest and begin my inevitable decay.

Before long, the skin around the soft mouth

By which I can now pleasure you with

Will be trapped amidst growing lines and creases.

The long, golden limbs by which I can now

Display myself for you

Will grow tired and broken.

The firm, delicate breasts which you can now lustfully stroke

Will soon loosen and surrender to the forces of gravity and time.

The velvety smoothness of the voice by which I can now sing for you

Will eventually croak and weaken.

I beg of you, love me now, and now only

or I shall wish that death come take me.

“Hi.”

She said with a shy smile,

As the handsome man passed her on the boulevard.

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