I can finish this meal entire,
leave you only crumbs for company.
It’s how I was raised.
To make not find room for each
deserted morsel
in this whisper of a belly.
To never leave a sandwich stranded,
erect refugee camps in pockets of flesh.
Soon I’ll balloon with the weight of
what this temple was not built for.
One day I’ll open wider, wider my mouth
and swallow the world.
