After

Before.

His scent diseased my couch, left it rank,

Lesions carved cushions wrinkled.

Days passed as gaze avoided, odd and strained I sounded,

This stranger ate me rough then stripped my skin.

Raw and empty stains for the outward eye;

Seats drenched in sanitizer sickly.

Stepped aside, silent, watched it dry,

First aid for rotten, spoiled love.

After.

With caramel apples in the air, hand slipped between flesh and fabric —

Past wrinkles buttery, sleek, and velvet;

Tilted chin and half-closed eyes, a breath of protracted assurance —

Spoken soft, delicate, warmly — cradled in promises only.

Inward we dug deep, yet as gentle as sound asleep,

And we shalt not make a mess to clean —

Oh my! Unraveling became us!

Wore white sheets well despite cure superfluous.