I am younger than insult.
My hard body soaks in salt water.
If you like it, I will bottle it,
a beautiful, gentle tea.
I smell steady. Like a brief cut
across my fingertip fades,
so will this scent. Let me package it.
Let me blush while you reach for
my confessions,
let my heart run a rabbit’s run.
Touch my breath,
intruder! Take me as a stranger,
open legged;
a boiling black tea.
I gracefully apologize.
This is me.