The Anorexic’s Song
by Amy Antongiovanni
For the sake of anonymity I split myself in two, shrinking
hips to wind’s-width, my pelvic bow
taut and whining, pierced by shame.
I wanted to love myself.
I adored Gabriella’s lush curves,
dark curls that languished
on her padded shoulders.
She had full breasts and thighs
that did not apologize.
I envied her deep laughter
as my body, my prison of ribs
plotted against me, night-troubled,
too sick to elevate beyond the penalties
of miles, I ran every day to burn
my daily bread.
I swooned to the abyss,
the cello’s low notes, Bach’s prelude
in B minor, the death of a body
pure erasure.
Night didn’t need me.
Gabriella didn’t need me. And you, my love, you
didn’t know me yet.