Sunday, October 30, 2005

she thought starvation was somehow holy - a poem by anne elliot

she thought starvation was somehow holy by slowly
dying she could make desire disappear
grief collected like butts in her ashtray never thrown away
just piling up building a quiet stench of sad
nutrition is milk in a constant coffee cup and sugar
in paper packets granulated gritty like words
and laughs spoken from a mouth that never opens.

she thought starvation was somehow holy by slowly
dying she could make desire disappear
she could erase his stain from its spot on her bed
she could erase the spot that returned and stayed wet in his absence
she could erase the spot that ignored soap and responded
only to the scrub of ribs against cotton

she thought starvation was somehow holy by slowly
dying she could make desire disappear
his spirit had stored itself like some mad drug
in cells of fat and muscle
now there was time to burn, now there was time to burn
now there was time to burn those cells one by one
so flashbacks would not surprise her sometime next year

she thought starvation was somehow holy by slowly
dying she could make desire disappear
she could cry all that fat out her eyes
she could cry all that fat out her eyes when she thought
no one was watching
she could cry all that fat out her eyes and let it run
down her body, irrigate the dirt that would bury her

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