"Heavenly Mother Eats Carbs" - Rebekah Orton

There is nothing lovely left in the body
I have been taught to despise:
measured and found wanting,
tight in my clothes, heavy
with the weight of years and children,
too tethered to the earth.

In the seconds before I turn away
I glimpse Her in my widened hips,
my deflated breasts,
the silver purple lines that map my abdomen:
a sense of power etched across my veins.

But when I turn back,
it’s only me
who sees the reflection
who steps off the scale.


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