Fast, Slow

My sister, at eighty three pounds and

five foot nine was shunted from college

college a skeleton.

How much her state had to do with

my mother's ceaseless dieting,

being on the father's fringes, or

anything else she's hinted at

I don't know.

We attended family therapy with a

comedic couple who could not

speak our language; still, she got well

and became a shrink like her saviors.

She gobbles chocolate every night now

but stays slim.

We don't discuss those days

when her upper thigh rivaled my arm.

She is an artist now, shares acreage

with a country boy,

stares out wide windows

at thick slow cows who

never stop eating,

ever.

Copyright Julianza Shavin 2008