That’s the word I’m looking for.
His skin is loose.
An iron frame robed in
Thick layers of meat and muscle.
“Cheesecake, baby?”
He wants to turn it down
But our little girl coos
And murmurs her pleasure
At the creamy, pungent sweetness.
“Okay, I’ll have a slice.”

At first sight, he was
Tight and taut.
Painfully nice to look at
For a woman who is anything but,
Always waiting for a firm and tender
Kali to pull him away
With her six arms
And wicked ways.

But this way,
Yes, My way,
He stays.
Round and deflated
Filet Mignon
Three days past
Its sell by date
Metmyoglobin brown
Concealing the deep
Fresh flesh red

Let any goddess take him
Who falls for his present
Like I love his present
Never having known
The apex of his virile physicality