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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=345522" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Woman with Girdle</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=345522" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Your midriff sags toward your knees; <br>your breast lie down in air, <br>their nipples as uninvolved <br>as warm starfish. <br>You stand in your elastic case, <br>still not giving up the new-born <br>and the old-born cycle. <br>Moving, you roll down the garment, <br>down that pink snapper and hoarder, <br>as your belly, soft as pudding, <br>slops into the empty space; <br>down, over the surgeon's careful mark, <br>down over hips, those head cushions <br>and mouth cushions, <br>slow motion like a rolling pin, <br>over crisp hairs, that amazing field <br>that hides your genius from your patron; <br>over thighs, thick as young pigs, <br>over knees like saucers, <br>over calves, polished as leather, <br>down toward the feet. <br>You pause for a moment, <br>tying your ankles into knots. <br>Now you rise, <br>a city from the sea, <br>born long before Alexandria was, <br>straighway from God you have come <br>into your redeeming skin.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Anne+Sexton">Anne Sexton</a></strong></div>

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