Caressing touches
with carefree friction
hang heavy with promise.
I am going to hell.

Between our bodies lies a running joke
treading back and forth
until the punch line gets old.
Meanwhile our laughs disturb heavens
and I cry to gods.
Ironic.

I stand naked before the mirror
discerning which parts of me you changed.
My body pronounced me woman.
My face reminded me too much of a babe.