It was winter in the forest   The
trees were asleep in
their holiday sweet needles  It
was January and I lived
in a schoolroom
building up on the fourth
floor  It had beige carpet and a
rattling radiator  Outside the
sky was washed clean
grey and cold  Too cold  So I
stayed in with my
books from the library with
the press of my fingerprints on
the spine  The books with
bread warm pages and
pointed sharp black words

*

My reflection was always in
the window or in the mirror
over the sink  When I looked my
teeth were sore and
cat sharpened  I was alone and
tired of hearing myself think  And
I was cold  My nipples were
always sharpened tight  My
back clenched up

—

There were plants growing in the
living room near the email computers  Their
leaves were made out of plastic silk  The
other girls never looked at them on their
way to the showers or their part time jobs  I
don’t know why I did

*

There had been a boy who had
fallen from the belltower on the
admissions building (he’s
crazy) last spring (he needs help)  His
black raincoat flapping and flying
when he did  He was a boy who sulked or
talked with a group of best
friend girls between classes  I couldn’t
remember what he said  He was
beautiful of course and thin  He went
three days without eating and when
he leapt he fell he leapt out of his body

—

You can eat and still starve  You can try (fast
food cookie dough from the package) but it’s not enough

—

Back then I had long gloriously
womanly hair I wore a black poet’s
coat (my grandmother had cut the
sale price tag off) though I wasn’t  I
didn’t write anything  I was
waiting for classes and I didn’t
have a part or full time job  My money
made a mouse rustle in my pocket
as I walked down the
sidewalk past the post office  the
admissions building on my way
to the dining hall to eat something or
anything  My stomach was
clenched like a fist  My hair when
I pushed my hair down hissed

—

The boy is still falling  He’s still out
there and up there if not forever  I
look up to see his hair  dyed
burgundy dark red though his
underarm hair his pubic hair are dark and
the pale dust from his skin—  I know
that I could have loved him  No I know
that I do

—

The trees were clutching themselves for
the night  The doors were locked.  I sat and looked
again and again at page 101 of this or that novel

—

You can eat and still starve to death

—

So goodbye then  (I knew)  Good-
bye little hands  good-bye legs  gasping
fish lungs  good-bye fist heart  good-bye
faded armpit hair  good-bye stomach  good-
bye 34b breasts  good-bye

—

Maybe it was true  I loved you (yes I
do) I love you  I do

*

It was summer and the trees
were buzzing with squirrels  There was
fruit smashed into pulp on the side-
walks  My shoelaces cracked  a whipping
sound like the blister whining on my heel