Tuning Into Our Bodies by Erika Anderson

We rap along with Nicki about shaking ass, moving our hips, and all these thick thighs.
Yet we still salivate over models.
And all those instagram influencers who preach to us–
Love your body, take care of your body, no matter the shape, no matter the size!
Then the whole world watches as they sink into their own skeletons.
These bodies are exempt from nature’s unforgiving laws.
These bodies are unruly, perhaps even free.
Free from the consequences of cigarette smoking circulating their lungs like blood,
instead of toxins.
Free from hunger,
Their stomachs are so tired of complaining that they’ve learned how to shrivel up into a tight
peach pit and lie flat like a pulsing warm crepe.
Their spines are prehistoric.
Their knees turn the color of unleaked blood simply from kneeling on the grassy floor.
Yet somehow still, these bodies glisten.
While the rest of us drool,
Wilting and wishing our own protective layer to slip from our bones
Like a melting ice cream cone on a day just too hot to hold anything else up.
Don’t we all want to clank around like a sweet empty song?
And some days become completely silent
Without the beat of swishing thighs
And leaving barely an imprint behind.