It’s been three years and still
every time I let your zipper snake up and down my side
you sneer at my stomach
hiss at my hip dips
and when you embrace me I can’t
because my fat may flow from your seams
like a waterfall from stone
or I may swim in you
and either way you’ll
feed on my limbs
feed my insecurities
strangle me like those serpents
strangled Laocoon’s sons
until I have no breath at all
and certainly no might
to tear you from my body
tear you from my wardrobe
into fire
By Sydney Gordon
