On the Logical Sexual Conclusion of Anorexia

Enamelled bone had bit the staff, it bucked.

That broken basin rimmed with air, where skin

And flesh and blood before were richly rucked,

For beauty dark was drawn to one so thin.

 

His blade turned candle, cloched and domed and rode

And bluntly bumped a damped, flat pitch opaque

Against the holed-out bowl. The flab had flaked;

Skeleton skinless screws, as furrow’s hoed,

 

A handsome stranger strong and dark. Lies flat,

Oiled thighs, oiled calves, without the rattling pat

Of pills in pale palms shrivelled shedding spare;

 

Bones honed and round astride this strong-bred sat,

Or spindle thin as spider had begat,

Traced the waistline sticks as rickets rare.

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