After the sex

my smoothed over breasts
eye me like plaintive fish
swimming, doubling back,
flitting briefly in the mirror
as I bend to fill a glass of water
in the sink.
Straightening up
my waist appears
cinched and saddle high
a v on either side
delineating the well-handled
masa-bowl of my belly.
Happily disbelieving
transformations,
I turn out the light,
sending fish and flesh to bed.