under my therapist’s guidance,
I switch chairs to talk
to my inner predator.
now  listen to the guilt,
  it’s talking,
I want to find out more about
her; what to call her,
where she hides sometimes
before I feel her seep into
each step.

I decided to have some boundaries
with the universe;
lined the edges of my bed with
geranium and lilac threads,
lined the sills with limonium,
wove my weave with daisy.   
my tub dripped nightly:
an altar of salt and
lavender sage.
watched my toes glide to the surface
by a dozen votives.
tease the cat
with little splashes at her nose.
forget everything.
my entire winter
was littered with
shards of celestite
and low violin.
I could see the sky when I wanted
from my dining room table
or on a brisk walk
to pick up oranges and Earl Gray
for the morning.
rediscovered medicine in prayer
and herb and
open mourning for my karmic retribution,
suddenly rectified,
suddenly deserved.
amethyst in my sock drawer and jasper
near the lamp, I held
one shout in my throat
in an effort to continue to
subjugate myself.
protect myself from myself.
protect myself from herself.
but it’s so tiring;
that anorexic
insatiable mouth,
the doe eyes and
planned outfits,
the scent so close
you begin to change shape
without notice.

you begin to grow a
mandible heart.

you begin to drool.
you begin to chomp
a little at their
wrists as they hand you
  I return to the chair,
calmly tell her
the following week.

I plan to spend the year
fat; replete in web
and feast.


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