we'll make a meal of this

her mouth against my ear
she tells me how she wants to eat her anorexia.
how she wants to stuff her face
with the image she sees in the mirror.
how for just one night she would binge
on the thoughts that make her feel fat,
the voice that scolds her  
enough already, that was tomorrow's calories

you stupid cow

when she reaches for an apple
after having a banana.


I nod, while her arms wrap around me
and her hands caress my belly,
feeling the softness of my comfort, the bulge of my
happiness.


I wish I wasn't like this
she tells me
I wish I didn't think my bones and ribs 
were so pretty,
the way they jut out.