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.