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Manipulation
My body thirsts,
and I fill it.
I begin with one glass and then move
to liters
of the clear stuff coursing
down the back of my throat
and filling me,
drowning my bones.
I'm flushing everything out:
you,
your skin,
your lips and your kisses.
I'm turning myself
into an ocean,
but losing the bitterness.
I'm making myself beautiful
and showing you
at every step.
Click-click goes the shutter.
Each image,
and I am the object of your lust
once again.
Every glass of water
is one step
closer
to one more pound falling
from this body,
one step closer to my dream.
I long for the days
when my stomach was concave;
If I lean back too far
I can count my ribs again.
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