Sundays are for eros, &
I wear my anorexia like
a condom
Depression is when you
forget how seductive
sunrise is.
Just because
you shutter your mind
doesn’t mean the sunset
isn’t an orgasm.
Here, the cure to depression
is my mother’s knock,
my lover’s thrust,
& my newborn smile.
Remember those moments
when our mothers veiled us
from her crumbling home
& nursed us with love.
Is it this frown –
is it this wrinkle
you want to pass as hope
to your boy?
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