When I Hated My Body
By Sarah Gambito
The elders gathered from the cornices of the island’s arms and we had nothing to say. Even hedge funds with the power to hoover it up and offer it back like tightly packed cigarettes were silent.
When you were a child, your eyelashes were so long.
We used to call you pilik mata.
I almost posted this on “social media”
You eat like you are being chased.
You who are living. What is your responsibility?
Illuminated light and
holding the hymnal with your boyfriend,
I wanted the poems to breathe prettily,
to be ecstatic and extroverted citizens.