Ecdysis (Or, Middle Life)

I look at myself,
lax flesh falling, and fail
to recognize my hands, my legs,
the breasts that won a contest
once. Still,
electricity runs
beneath my skin, and if
I touch you
you may turn
to ash like those putrid black
snakes that sizzled on the sidewalk
after a quick flick
of my brother’s Bic.

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