Being pillowy didn't suit me
A morsel to savor
Make the mouth water.
No.
I am not built to be zaftig:
No hard edges
No awkward corners
No bones poking through.
No sharpness
Makes me weaker:
I am not a soft and
Gentle kind of sister.
I am not built to dine on
Compliments honest or sly
About how the curve of my ass
Makes suitors sigh
Or how my eyes are greener
And make the desire keener
Do not ask me to dine out
On flattering statements
Or chew on companionship
Promises:
I am sick of the
Lot of it.
I find solitude delicious
I eye up my empty life
Like an alligator with a steak
And sit watching the moon
With the eye of a woman
Who has felt death brush
Her cheek
And swoon.
