From birth,
curds of vernix,
Baby cries for liquid gold
with soured burp cloths draped over shoulders,
an unending cycle of swollen breasts, heavy diapers.

Toddling in drool-doused bibs,
peed-through pants (sometimes brown).

As a child,
snot on sleeves,
vomit from playing after lunch,
diarrhea from school stomach bugs,
crocodile tears.

Then puberty–
sweat, oil, musk, pus from pores,
and monthly shedding of unneeded blood–
until needed:

Adult now,
after lubricant and semen,
another body of water inside
a growing pool of amniotic fluid,
water breaks,
breasts swell,
cycle continues.

Then one day,
pools at the knuckles,
ripples on the thighs,
waterfall on the neck.
Sweat and sweat and sweat and
sure life is seeping out.

Skin becomes a desert,
oasis eyes become dry,
toes warped, soles calloused.

It is hard to swallow.
The cavern of the lips stick to the jaw.
With last breath,
the body expels its finality.

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Taffeta Chime, a lifelong fabulist and logolept, has two published novels (Stoodie and The Last) and several stories, poems, and articles printed across many publications (most recently including Hollywood Time$, MeChat Interactive Stories, and Renew.org). She currently works as a multigenre freelance writer and editor in Tennessee.