Courtney LeBlanc
ALBATROSS
I'm pleased—proud?—the nights
I go to bed hungry, my empty belly
the soft rumble of waves rolling
into the shore. The next morning
after coffee and a 90-minute workout
I step onto the scale, the salty sheen
of dried sweat my only accessory. Down
0.3 pounds. I smile as I spoon fat-
free Greek yogurt into my mouth.
I thought by now I'd stop
writing love poems to my disordered
eating, thought by now I'd love
every version of my body. Old
habits hang around my neck
like an albatross and I calculate
the calories burned carrying
this burden. Maybe when I lose
ten more pounds I'll be ready
to put it down.