under my therapist’s guidance,
I switch chairs to talk
to my inner predator.
now now listen to the guilt,
  it’s talking,
learn where all the trouble started.

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.
my tub dripped often:
an altar of salt and
lavender sage.
carpet burns and I
watched my toes glide to the surface
by a dozen votives.
forgot 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,
rectified,
suddenly deserved.
       
amethyst in my sock drawer and jasper
near the lamp, I held
one shout in my throat
in an effort to
pacify myself.
protect myself from myself.
it’s so tiring;
anorexia with
insatiable mouth.
planned outfits.
scent so close
you begin to change shape
without notice.
you begin to grow a
mandible chest
I return to the chair,
the following week,
I have a plan.
she nods expectantly.

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

“gestalt”