Essays in Moonlight; Dysmorphia

because of the hardness of steel and the way stone crumbles to a dust we can taste in our open mouths like enamel filed down to make space for other teeth.

the over growth of our bone jungle fingers slapped with latex stretch lips wide at their already chapped corners open wider now spit. because all the news is bad news, because i woke up early and my coffee is cold.

because the scars from my wisdom teeth have never healed because i can't stop biting my finger nails i decide not to eat. the weather is all wrong and i don't deserve it. i want to be my own mother bird chewing food i'll never swallow. spare hollow boned delicate in a wind that reaches between feathers. i slap a blister pack of pink pills that shed their skin in my palm. pour the water, drink them down.

ipecac forgiveness the science of in then out. there is satisfaction in settling for less, the deliberation over teaspoons darkened windows make mirrors at midday reflection fragmented calves and curb a language in glass understood in parts:

arms, thighs, stomach. not as lean as need not as long as desire. it's the background i don't notice automatic doors to let me in close to keep me out. the absence between the seals, the coming together, the pulling apart.