I’m not your pizza-stuffing
lard ass, not your slight
chance of gaining three pounds from that
accidental crouton in your salad. I’m a pressure
system moving
through a stomach, the sudden
gust wrecking a dumbbell
into mush. I move haloed
and chill, my body a masterpiece, two thighs
muggy as summer, my ass super-
saturated with sunlight screaming, Look
at me. Embrace the bulk
of my breasts, [ ] like the oh
your open mouth makes, pink
as a cyclone on a weather map. I’m a pill
popper with a forecast
of weight gain. Give me my [ ]
seat-belt extender. Take my dark eyes blotting
a white sheet. [ ], I can jog
a block after hitting the blunt. I can rock
the turbulence of my sleeveless arms
better than a plane dipping
in the wind. I’m not a rainbow, yet I swallow
my antidepressants with the same
kind of grace. You, too, have such a pretty face.
2021
Regular
Contemporary
2023
Love & Relationships
Poetic Form
Allusion
an expression designed to call something to mind without mentioning it explicitly; an indirect or passing reference
Metaphor
a comparison between two unrelated things through a shared characteristic
Rhetorical Question
a question asked for effect, not necessarily to be answered