Who knows what lesson a lover may bring. Take Jack, who caressed my naked stomach and said, "My, I sure do love your fat little belly."
My fat belly? Surely I misheard. Surely he said, "Flat."
But later, bare-skinned before my mirror, I had to admit that my flat belly had mysteriously disappeared.
Like my once brown hair
Like my wisdom teeth
Like my days dissolving into decades.
from the author of PRICKSONGS: Tart Poems from the Sixties
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