Poems by Rosemary Norman from videos by Stuart Pound click here for synopses & stills, clips & index EATING DISORDER I am the bone, sufficient. Whatever is soft in you, and wants comfort, I bite deep into it. I work from the inside out. I expose you slowly as one of my own. You grow thinner. Now you will not relent. Once you lapped up anything. Discrimination? You licked its edges smooth and creamy, your mouth was a blur, there were crumbs between your fingers. Later, they'd hurt like grit. Let your last breath lift you, light as dust, into the nostrils of sleek and slippery eaters. I will coat their tongues with you. But the skin still clings, and a little movement of fever in your sockets tells me you have an eye, still, for the blubbery world.