I am a shadow.
I glide over bedroom walls,
replaying memories of the girl I once was.
I haunt every bathroom where rituals unfold,
withered women purging deep-fried expectations.
The emptiness clings, even when they gorge it.
They kneel and beat upon their ribs,
violently denounce the coiled serpent,
but it cannot be cast out.
They bow before me
in mass exodus.
A suggestion of who they could be
plays upon my lips, but
nothing
has ever been allowed
to pass these gates.
I don't speak.
I simply watch them bow,
and become, each one, a shadow,
like me.
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