why can’t i love my body
look at it and say im sorry
why can’t i love
the flesh
the wrinkles and lines
craving other lines of past times
linearity
the death knell of my sincerity
why can’t i love
the jelly
the jiggle the cellulite
that taunts me in spite
of all my preventative measures
at the cost of all life’s simple pleasures
only pleasure
a smaller measure
thickness grown over
the bones i treasured
the vessel’s weighty imperfections
catch up, relentless
regardless of my minds intentions
wreathing from control in vengeance
the antithesis of anything
and everything
for which i longed
merely suffering prolonged
a lifelong war on anatomic reality
spirit anchored in familiarity
and in self-induced
illusions of actuality