i no longer find comfort in the curve of your shoulders
& you no longer take pleasure in the sharpness of my bones
you used to draw tongue-lined hearts across my pointy hips as if they tasted of beauty
but now all you can do is whisper (thinly-veiled critical) compliments like
"your hip bones are knife-sharp"
"i think you're a bit self-destructive"
(i remember when you called me dangerous as if i were perfection)