Valerie Gilreath
ANOREXIA AS ABUSIVE LOVER
The line is always the same:
but we’re so good together.
No one makes me feel like you do.
The first weeks are all endorphins,
you-and-me-against-the-world
secret love. He gives me clavicle,
iliac crest, the knob at the wrist,
zygomatic arch. Smiles crack
like bones. The fissures
apparent. Then it wears thin.