Come Back As Orange Poppies

To All The Women I Know,
If we come back,
Consider returning as poppies
Bright orange and loose
Inside your magnificent skin
Like women in paintings
By an old master— Manet
Maybe or maybe it’s Renoir
Who painted those women,
The ones who said Yes to
A second piece of cake, a third
And licked the frosting
As they reveled
In their silken selves, even when
The artist turned away and
Those women could break pose
Luxurious, languid stretch that
I would wish for all of you
As if we were a field of
Orange poppies in the sun.