“Self Portrait as Hot and Ready”

This poem originally appeared in The Northern Virginia Review in 2018.

You carried me through the door and down

the long hallway thinking maybe I would taste

familiar, despite your history with thinner crusts

from when you thought you knew more about

nourishment. Hungry for anything but hungriest 

for me. “Ready” is a false advertisement, I’m hot

and cheesy and dripping, but I want to be had for more 

than the five scraped out of the depths of your jeans.

Here is where this pizza delivers herself. I’ll leave

your cheek with a greasy kiss, but don’t say a word

about your cravings. It’s hard enough rising rounded

and smooth edged in a sharp cornered box. It’s hard

enough suffocating. I’ll take myself to the shore. I’ll

eat myself whole. Brine and salt, burnt parts and all.