Ceremonial
Delirious,
touch-starved,
I pinch a mole
on my skin, pull it
off, like a bead—
I pinch & pull until
I am holding
a black rosary. Prayer
will not cool
my fever.
Prayer will not
melt my belly fat,
will not thin
my thighs.
A copper-
faced man once
called me beautiful.
Stupid,
stupid man.
I am obese. I am
worthless.
I can still feel
his thumb—
warm,
burled—moving
in my mouth.
His thumbnail
a flake
of sugar
he would not
allow me to swallow.
Desperate
for the sting of snow
on my skin,
rosary
tight in my fist,
I walk into
a closet, crawl
into a wedding dress.
Oh Lord,
here I am.
Copyright © 2015 by Eduardo C. Corral. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on November 9, 2015, by the Academy of American Poets.