I respect my body.
The same way I respect my house.
My red brick skin
Blushed with flowing blood
From my space-heater heart
My air-conditioner lungs I have routinely maintained
With long drawn out breathes of cool wind
I have protected my house with toxic pockets
Of termite poison
To protect my wooden frame
And I hang up pictures of love ones with
Nails inside tattoo guns that spell out their names
And I paint my home’s walls with different shades
Of colors to bring out its ascetic value
Like how I use blue eye-shadow so my guests
Can better see my eyes, bright blue
I eat vitamins like I vacuum my carpet
Cleaning up and persevering its worth
The ting-tang sound of a working vacuum
Paralleling the pitter-patter of those circular pills
As they fall down my throat
I seasonally change out my couches and my chairs
When I go to my mirror and tie-up my hair
A different look for a different season
Because my house deserves a separate look too
For when it feels the wind changing
And like myself my house would rather not be bare
So I dress it in marigolds and poppy flowers
And ivy that I have to cut down when I notice it growing too fast
Because like my house I am too beautiful to be covered completely
Each shrub I trim another inch of skin I can share
And I respect  it when I get home
I say just a little bit
More skin at the top
To show off my brick house.