A year ago

That would have been deeply erotic. 

Now it is as if

A blob fish

Flopped on top of you

And struggled against 

The oppressive weight of air

Gyrating wetly

Futilely

As you grow even limper

Than it is. 

 I wish 

My body

Would diminish 

Like my “voice” has

Like my talent has

Like my potential has

Growing small and smaller

Until I am eclipsed

By someone new

And can fade safely

Into the background

Drifting away on winds

Like memory

Easily forgotten in form

As I am in spirit