Transmutation
Every day, our bodies alter—
new cells, new wrinkles,
a new scratch that becomes
a new scar. Within a year,
we are entirely new. Only
older. Every evening,
by candlelight, we fuel the change
with the thick pulp of citrus,
deep red of beet, dark green leaves,
the mature golden germ of wheat.
Our bodies become the menu,
translating each bite into elbow,
anklebone, thigh and grin. Watching
you rise, I feast on your limbs.
With each day, our skin becomes
more like the well-ripened mango—
loosened and rumpled, mottled,
while inside we work on sweetening,
making the long journey
from flesh to nectar to wine.
(from Insatiable, Sisu Press, 2004)