Shoulders should be round and sloping
Rolling off into long, straight arms
The way sand dunes roll off into
Long, flat beaches and finally
Into the place where the sand meets the sea.
Her shoulders are square.
Thin skin stretches precariously
Over pointy shoulder blades
And skeletal, doll arms,
Pale and filled with ink-blue veins.
I remember my own shoulders.
My own doll arms.
On that day in July
As I took the elevator to the fifth floor,
I traced my fingers over
The wavy blue veins under
My transparent skin.
They were not beautiful.
Thin is not beautiful.
It was never about beautiful.
Claire Aviles is originally from Austin, TX. She is a current senior at Boston College, where she is studying English, and she works as a freelance writer for NaturallyCurly.com. Her work has been published at Marco Polo Arts Mag and at Dead Beats.