What We Learned as Little Girls

hip bone, thigh gap, collar bones,
wrists the width of pins, ribs
untwisted paper clips, knee caps tipped
like knives, arms and legs just ligaments, and skin
a labyrinth of blue veins skimming bone. but breasts,
give us breasts,
a cushion to coddle that muscled meat
ever-pleading, ever-beating, ever-eating
itself, a siphon still for the starving and starved.




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© 2018 Monica Lewis