he doesn't text me
and I think
it's my arms
chicken cutlets
that need the fat trimmed off
maybe it's the way my belly rolls
when he's holding my legs up
even in his lust
he must see
my flaws
can he worship a woman
that's beautiful and round?
the figures on his screens
tall, tight, trimmed, and small
in the bedroom night
shadows purse together
like lips
mouthing no on his wall
but it's me
I'm the woman
bullying myself all along

I put my thoughts in his mind
and place my words in his mouth.