Red Tide
Sometimes before the red tide My body is no longer mine When I stare down At those two fat burlap sacks
Curves like melted candle wax Dried on the floor, a shapeless mass
I wonder if I’m just paying rent
Not recognizing my naked form
Now a tarp stretched tight Filled with air
Bloated and burning
Almost bursting Breasts that don’t feel like breasts
A belly that bubbles grotesque A swathe of distended skin
Swoll...
