On Meeting Again - Reinvent

Hydraulics of emotions

Injected his heart pump

With air, with water, with gas,

Yet, the frozen motors stood still.

She was not her.

Botox, tucks and laser light,

Sculpted, moulded and abraded her sags,

Tummy stapled, silicon gel contoured her

In all the right places.

Diamond toothed, gold leafed and perfected

No secrets were left to mine.

All was soft silica, alloys and emulsions-

Plastic polymers and synthetic dyes.

The human flesh and hide-

Darned out to a rarity

In her hour glass figure,

The sands were stunned.

I was old.

An artist’s caricature of downward lines.

She was young, a Venus

Borne out of a scalpel and knife.

‘Poor three legged man,’’ she purred

Your third leg is in the grave.’’

‘Your stick is old’’

‘Where is your grand son, my love!’’