
essays in the moonlight; dysmorphia - examination of the lyrics
because of the hardness of steel and the way stone crumbles to a dust. we can taste in our open mouths like enamel filed down to make sp*ce for other t**th. the overgrowth of our bone jungle. fingers slapped with latex stretch lips wide at their already chapped corners. open wider. now spit. because all the news is bad news, because i woke up early and my coffee is cold. because the scars from my wisdom t**th have never healed, because i can’t stop biting my fingernails. i decide not to eat. the weather is all wrong and i don’t deserve it. i want to be my own mother bird chewing food i’ll never swallow. spare hollow*boned, delicate in a wind that reaches between feathers, i slap a blister pack of pink pills that shed their skin in my palm. pour the water, drink them down. ipecac, forgiveness. the science of in then out. there is satisfaction in settling for less, the deliberation over teaspoons. darkened windows make mirrors at midday, reflection fragmented. calves and curb, a language in glass, understood in parts: arms, thighs, stomach. not as lean as need, not as long as desire. it’s the background i don’t notice, automatic doors to let me in, close to keep me out. the absence between the seals, the coming together, the pulling apart
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