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"My Massage Girl"
by Jeph Johnson
She smells my aches and pains
Though the cold fragrance of the morning
Seeks them out to straighten out
Close in cuddled purpose, so much more in worth
Each bouquet mends different tendons
Frenetically caressed as though too taut
Smoothing out the petals that from my stalk dropped
At random in haphazard patterns they're spread
Stems scattered across the hotel bed
My ligaments honed, hugging my bones
Tightening my grip on immortality
Healing is just feeling another's vitality
The poem's last line is very
The poem's last line is very profound.
Starward