Homesick body

This body is my home

And yet I am homesick.

I moved in years ago,

Though I still have not decorated.

I would like to paint these walls - this dusky flesh;

To crimson.

For this I must dust my old grey floors,

And perhaps invite bright people in to visit.

I’d like to take this body

To see warm maraschino skies.

With blinding shades of mustard,

And time just slipping by.

I’d like this body to feel

Thick evening honey air.

Still wading through molasses

But now, without a care.

Maybe it doesn’t take much

To paint this “body home”.

I don’t need to choose one colour,

Forget just monochrome.