low calorie cook book

i dog eared pages of the little death bible 
& said, "here is all my mouth will answer."
each rib like the lazy teeth of a xylophone. 
i played & played until everything 
was made of glass. trying to turn into a bird
for me meant hollowing every bone
i could find. my own & others. the spoon i used
to cry with. windows open, i feasted on breath.
why do we decide to become wells? here is where
the town goes to wish. a boy asking,
"let it rain toads tonight."
my mother worked with me. we used measuring spoons.
we stood on two separate burners of the oven.
i said, "do i look barbeque to you?" she was on the phone
with a doctor. the doctor was saying, "you have
to eat chicken." my boyfriend camped out
on the roof. said, "i have a wife somewhere." 
i learned that each flavor has the potential
to turn you into a hermit. i licked the ceiling.
taught the moths how to die. locked my door
& savored the sound of corn. she would
put a lid on my bowls of food. i waited
until they were cold. until the night had crab legs.
lit candles to balance on all of our heads.
this was the only way i could eat.
sitting on the floor of my bedroom, telephone
talking about fire & being the best child you can be.