“A Hunger Artist, 2015”

1.
You pick one pre-made excuse,
A hollow little lie crafted with the careful fingers
Of detox teas and runway models,
So you can push away the plate in front of you, offer it up
Like a tribute to an ancient god.
Swallow your words as your body cries out
That one taste is not enough. Can’t you
See your temple crumbling into ruins?

Pretend you do not know what hunger is, as if
It does not crouch on your shoulder, growling in your ear,
Clawing at your stomach, gnawing on your bones.
Smile, even though we both know all
You’ve eaten today
Is four pieces of celery,
Three bites of a granola bar,
Two sticks of gum,
One apple,
And your daily dose of self-loathing.

2.
Under buzzing fluorescent lights,
Your warped reflection dances in the mirror,
Twisting the sharp lines of your limbs, tallying
Each imperfection. But I see
A galaxy, painted in shades of gold and brown.
The burning sun glimmers in your hair, kissing
Your body with constellations of freckles. In your eyes
Seethes the endless rage of the ocean. The curve of your hip
Boasts the unknowable strength of heroes; like Atlas
Holding the weight of the world in shaking hands, you were
Sculpted from ivory but baptised in a hurricane.

3.
These words catch in my throat, tangle around my tongue,
So I will say them in the only way I know,
Scrawled in ink across the canvas of the sky.
Look for my stuttering in the spaces
Between the stars, hold them tight until your soul aches raw with
The truth: Perhaps you are not perfect, but
My dear, you have always been enough.

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