Paisley

There is a cursive smile
Where my pelvis used to be
A lightly bleached
Mustachioed upper lip
Contrasting my tanned skin
and alien to my reddish brown hair

I feel like some
Deliciously
Fleshed
Harmonica
Half toned and tongued

There are fingers
In my flesh

My thighs
Paisley'd by afternoon sun
Filtering through lace curtains

My legs
A wrap
An
Off-the-shoulder
Shrug