Sometimes before the red tide My body is no longer mine When I stare down At those two fat burlap sacks Curves like melted candle wax Dried on the floor, a shapeless mass I wonder if I’m just paying rent Not recognizing my naked form Now a tarp stretched tight Filled with air Bloated and burning Almost bursting Breasts that don’t feel like breasts A belly that bubbles grotesque A swathe of distended skin Swoll...