WHAT IS LEFT
As the tide goes out revealing waterbreaks
As the fall of leaves discloses a tree
As a crowd resolves into a recognised face
So the passage of youth and youthful beauty
from your contemporaries
Throws into greater prominence
Your strong bones
Your blue eyes
Your soft skin
Your untampered body
As you drop your clothes at night
I am privileged to see
Your full bosom
Your startling figure
Your warm colour
As you are stifled by care and exhaustion
I promise to set them aside
and feed you happiness
knowing what is underneath
One day these bodies will rot away
to reveal the bones
and then the bones rot
to leave nothing
but who we were
- who we really were.
Image reblogged from oldbookillustrations: Adaptation of figures to space. Walter Crane, from The magazine of art, London, 1893. Via archive.org.
