To those
who ask where anorexic 
girl-bodies come from-

Six years from now when
you find yourself in love with 
me again--it will be
easy to find me--
you can start by
sowing yourself into the 
hem of the dusk. Take
out your paint rollers
and dip them in the bruises
on our forearms-- soak up the tar 
night left smooched around
our eyes.
Pluck out
your irises and replace
them with dried watermelon
seeds or freckles of a full bellied-
moon-- if you're lucky enough
to catch one impersonating
the sun--
Yes. 
You know where
I walk when I want
to leave my body-- we can meet
half-way across the 
soy beans field that was
once a corn field and was
was once my bare arms
shaven in a kitchen sink
full of full-bellied 
watermelon rinds-- bite
me down to the honeydew 
green grin--
I'll be here
in the field where the foxes
write me love letters with
their feet-- the field that
was both your mother and my
mother and somehow our sister
and the curled toes of a pie
in the oven back at home
Our home-- your home--
the foxes home dug
out of the moon--
-- Yes you
can meet me there-- only on
my terms. Bring your paint
rollers-- we're sealing 
the sunset behind us
and becoming a skirt--
don't be afraid to unfurl--
You can be a woman here--
It's okay-- I'm not one either--
and I'm queer as the fox feet
but I still fall in love 
with boys-- scared of
paint rollers and using
the corn field for sex--
I think boys are scared of 
being dirty and
I think it's funny how a species
can know so little
about soil and claim to know
so much about kissing--
yes my love is the kind
of love that bruises you--
smooches you black under your 
eyelids-- my love 
haunts sunsets and 
speaks in watermelon rinds
and spits the seeds 
in the Lima bean field-- 
I'll say
     Did I ever tell you where
     anorexic girl bodies come from
And maybe you'll try 
to find where my legs
become roots-- 
And maybe you'll ask
if I'm queer because 
I've spent the last
few years learning all
the different ways
a boy can bruise you--
just to come back to 
the field and re-plant myself
each time
I'll say
     Did you ever walk across
     the Lima bean field
     Did you ever eat soil
     Did you ever carve out
     your full belly and lay
     shaven in the sink???
I'll teach you how to kiss--
and I can't promise it won't be
dirty but I can promise you
will curl like the toes of a pie--
take out your irises-- see with 
your skirt hem-- no see
with the watermelon seeds
no see with the hollow of a
tilled field and 
that is where we grow
anorexicgirl-bodylove
so bold there was no food
left to feed it to help 
it grow fuller-- I paint with
bruises and boys are terrified--
this love is going to 
dress us in skirts-- walk us
across smooth skin in the sink--
Meet me on my own terms
and I'll teach you what
kind of love I can eat 
with all these bone empty 
rooms-- I have
spaces for you to sleep in--
spaces to grow Lima beans--
spaces to kiss--
spaces for listening to
the crust and curl of your flesh--
if you want to unfurl tonight.
Sow the hem of your skirt--
Roll into the soil--
It's just me and foxes
and whatever sunset we decide
to paint.