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Brewer Burns

Tuesday, March 21, 2006

A Pound of Flesh

Riding in the car, heading towards the grocery store.


Stephen: "What’s wrong?"
Me: "I hate myself!"
Stephen: "Well, what do you want me to do?"
Me: "I don’t know"


But what I really wanted him to do was take me home and slice away every inch of fat from my body. Belly, thighs, ass. To create hollows where now there are curves. Concave.


A pound of flesh? That’s not going nearly far enough.

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