I cannot live on a size zero brain;
hearing about your hair and your friends,
and how they daily let you down.
I need the meat of brain, meat of body,
the meat of words and ideas,
the meat Goya and Boucher,
of Kant and Descartes.
The hollowness of your shadowed eyes
and practiced posturing
causes my belly to gripe and ache.
Where do I sink my teeth?
Where do I sink my body, my mind?
Where do I find you behind the shallow pretense?
Copyright © 2014 SK Waller