Has a very high forehead.
In middle school someone called her Frankenstein.
Profound nose, earlobes long and pierced,
thin hair in greasy planks along her colossal face.
As she protruded from her mother during birth
the midwife pronounced her head the biggest she had ever seen.
Her breasts are monstrous pears that sway when she walks,
bend her back, sit on her round bowl stomach.
Cavernous bellybutton, her curious fingers dip in
every now and then. Pale as moonflower, you can see
every vein, every pore. Perspires heavily from her armpits,
sometimes develops a rash. Has points on the tips of her ears.
Her period is thick and heavy, and lasts eight days.
As a teenager, blood soaked through her clothes.
Crooked mouth, hermit words that crash around the teeth.
Stump hands, clumsy fingers that never practiced the scales.
Moles everywhere, sunburned skin in the summer,
often wakes in pools of her own sweat. Feels whale-like,
apologized once for being so goddamned big.
Always gets sick, has nightmares, and medical procedures
that invade her for months. Has migraines, stomach upsets,
acne that spreads to her arms. Hair comes out in lengthy, fat ribbons.
Her skin shrivels without lotion, gums recede from the teeth.
Long limbs, big bones, a head above most women,
grows out of her clothing as her house closes in.
Her heart is sizable and over time grew into her ribs.
Now the ingrown muscle festers.
*Published in Dark Sky Magazine; Debut Print Issue, Fall 2010