Now it's gone, I miss the glistening,
The glistering, another's wet drying to scent
That I used to wash off my own skin after
Summoning it, back when I was fortunate.
I miss the strangeness of it, of the body
Of another, body with its own commands
And uncontrollable functions, a body hungry
To make itself happy, dripping with risk
And desire that was never really for me
Or for anyone but for the body that desired.
We need to sate ourselves and in the effort
We make ourselves, whether we wanted
More company in this world or not. I miss
Being in the way of someone else's craving,
Some else's messiness. I miss feeling,
Satisfied or not myself, that I helped.
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