It’s 90 degrees in my apartment
You wouldn’t be able to breathe

in here
I can breathe through anything

& have
You tell me this hurts

I’m just waiting
for you to make me do something

unrecognizable
Every few months

my fig tree sheds all her leaves
Winter can come anytime

& does
I believe

there’s no point in saying no
There never has been

Swallowing
has nothing to do with trust

Neither does nourishment
or love

My body isn’t so
precious

To tell the truth
it never was

No one ever taught you
how to play nice

like they taught me
how to play good

I listened
to your rules

let you have your way
with my tight little body

just like everyone else
should

No, I don’t have to
love you

to be able to
starve myself for you

I don’t have to
love

You know I’m not the kind
who can walk away

from the act of destroying
someone else’s peace

Too close to having nothing
to say no to anything

I wanted once
Like you

My equal, I know
possession only incites fear

I still stop to catch my breath
at every black car

My equal, I need you
to tell me the truth

What part of my body extends
beyond itself

to torment you

Francesca Kritikos is a writer and editor based in Chicago. She is the author of the chapbooks It Felt Like Worship (Sad Spell Press, 2017) and Animals Don't Go To Hell (Bottlecap Press, 2021) and the forthcoming full-length collection Exercise in Desire (Vegetarian Alcoholic Press, 2022). She is on Instagram @fmkrit.