A soaked shirt collar

Turned pink to red delicious
Staring into a car door

Shaped like a mirror

She took time away from lifting weights

To carrying them

Looking at a scale left unchanged,

But a body that let go

Hours spent smiling into an identical pane of glass

And those the glass spent watching teary eyes rain

“How,” she cried, “can both be true?”

Body and mind yearn for a consensus

Or at least a tolerance not so piercing

As to turn to acid and dissolve the red delicious

With toxins she inhales

A poison she swallows

And a heart that hides in the grey