Salvation

If I stood at my open window with
a strange new light falling gold
over my skin now smooth & pale
like cream, no clothes, with breasts
grown full as love, & my cock inverted
to a tight vagina, if my hair grew back
full from the forehead up & fell out
from there on down, if I were a Venus
in the window, all curves, I'd share
everything. I'd masturbate for the men
heading home, the too-tired men
of little hope, the hard workers with
unhappy jobs. They would see me &
cluster on the sidewalk, hats in hand,
eyes dewy, a lump in their throats
& pants, until someone brave enough
would climb the stairs & find my
door ajar, & me, pleased to please.
He would have me on the windowsill
until he was satisfied & each man
from the street, each deserving man
would approach for his taste of this
transformation, so by dawn, I'd be raw
& then by evening, ready, & healed.