Note: from Metamorphosis – a partial sequence written in the voice of a young woman during her time at a live-in eating disorder clinic
I stand in front of the mirror and tear everything away –
all the layers of my skin, the eyes
are easy to clip and pop-socket,
the plush of lips
I unhook, the flute of larynx
I pare away, the reeds of ribs
and the sharp bones of the foot
lift up like tiny helicopters,
the ligaments, lobes of fat, lamp lungs,
they all come away.
I even rip out my red bucket heart
with its antennae of valves and arteries
and those cave-like chambers
big enough, they say, to house
the echoes of love.
