Image description: A poem from a book.
It reads: “When fucking you, my belly hangs over
“the harness, its scars and stretchmarks
“milk-blue, and wobbles — look away,
“I used to but missed the strap emerge
“slick and your lips draw in when I pushed
“but then you reached for my hips, thumbs
“shadow-deep, pulling me toward you. Closer,
“you whispered. Juntas — together.
“That's when I began to look, to see
“myself, to be my body, in my body,
“to claim it, my belly me, to feel
“strong, my thigh muscles hard
“as vulnerability. I confess: before our first
“time, I worried you’d somehow realize
“how fat I am once I took off my clothes,
“as if I was hiding behind my skinny
“tie printed with bluebonnets I wore to
“the hotel bar and that you used to pull me
“onto the bench in front of the window.
“I love how different your body is
“from mine, you told me, I love your body,
“unbuttoning every button then
“that ever held me back or in.”