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
