Ribs

Forced. Gruesome, bodily. 
I feel raped. Wrong. 
Violated, like somebody took the jumbled
-up fragments of my brain and laid
 them out on the table, legs
spread fast. 
Dizzy. 
Exposed, powerless. O, I’ve been discovered.
Red-hands.  

Jumbled,                       
My legs
spindly, thin. Thigh Gap. I’m hungry, dizzy.
Mirror-hands
move down my body, hesitate at my ribs and hips. Disgusting bodily
functions make sounds, bark growl moan at my skin laid
on skin. Skin and bones are necessary. Connective tissue is arbitrary. Wrong, 
but newly discovered
despite my constant fast.

Wrong? 
fingers, not my own master my xylophone ribs. Makes me dizzy. 
laid
down, reclining on the floor, we’re jumbled
in blankets. his hands
traverse me, discover
buttons I never thought to push. These legs 
are beautiful to him, fueling his bodily
passion. And he moves, fast.

The world spins fast,
Feasting upon hunger, alone. The euphoria induces some sort of dizzy
misconceptions, not quite new. Jumbled
-nothings make me feel whole. About now, I haven’t hands,
nothing of legs, 
no insides or outsides. Bodily
presence is gone. Discovering
the dark secrets of Right and Wrong,
mislaid.