The Only Saving Angle

Today my body
morphs a bit more
towards its end:

an overweening
sinking, achy
in a knee, all verging

on the probability
of gas. (We will not
talk about the ass.)

I am not pretty now –
I cannot quite
envision how

I ever was desired.
Mired in self-pity?
No: a fresh unblessed

assessment
of the flesh.
Facing this head-on

takes cheek.
The only saving
angle is oblique.

.