Relishing in my skin,
In my domesticity and defiance,
I’d do my dishes in the nude.
I’d have more to work with,
If you could get rid of that padding on your hips,
He says.
I laugh.
I’ve had these since I was twelve.
Disease of distortion I thought myself immune.
Never did I think I’d succumb.
To this insidious insanity.
Unsettling,
Unfamiliar,
Unwarranted.
I’ve got to get out of this business.
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