Baseness

I know that smile.
          A stretch of lips daring to hope.
I know that body.
          Stomach too soft, breasts too full, hips too wide.
I know that dream.
          Maybe he's looking at you.

You don't know.
That look.
          When someone really sees you.
That  touch.
          Gloriously base, promising immorality.
That awareness.
          An itch, a hunger deep inside begging relief.

They say it's like butterflies, the touch of silk. And warm, so much warmth
            I never felt any softness,
A whipping wind. A crashing tree. I could never escape.

Let me paint a picture. It will be harsh and vibrant.
            Your eyes cannot stay on it, but cannot look away. It hurts.
There is a smell. Thick and cloying, malodorous even.
                                    Breathe deep now, darling.
The colors, the scent, the screams and cries.
                                                It all belongs to you.