In the newer of times
I will start back at the curl of my spiral
Where I began to stumble
And I will work backwards to diminish myself;
it is the most empowering result to disappear slowly
To control, once again, the body's desires
fighting natural order
forgetting hunger, releasing endorphins
Powerful flow of functional beauty
So linear, it misses the chaos and wonder of disorderly imperfect sublime
I promise to melt away, like ice in an empty glass
to leave behind a pool of clarity,
a foggy dew
capillaries and droplets.

--

These useless vitamins do nothing:
Multiple, B, all in complex
zinc headaches; splinters, detatchment from the spine
self-prescribed bullshit
Please don't force this down my throat and into my lonely gut.
Because I can do it for myself.
Measurements and obsessive amountings to nothings
My image:
imagined as something else
both better and worse
a tightness
a curling spinal column
an imperfection on the skin
a thickness from my bones
it expands and erases
multiplying and deleting
The vision:
a blurring dizziness, pathways, in dim lighting stretch with vacant shelves full of the need to be filled with something other than this.