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Anne Sexton - Woman with Girdle
Work rating: Medium

Your midriff sags toward your knees; 
your breast lie down in air, 
their nipples as uninvolved 
as warm starfish. 
You stand in your elastic case, 
still not giving up the new-born 
and the old-born cycle. 
Moving, you roll down the garment, 
down that pink snapper and hoarder, 
as your belly, soft as pudding, 
slops into the empty space; 
down, over the surgeon`s careful mark, 
down over hips, those head cushions 
and mouth cushions, 
slow motion like a rolling pin, 
over crisp hairs, that amazing field 
that hides your genius from your patron; 
over thighs, thick as young pigs, 
over knees like saucers, 
over calves, polished as leather, 
down toward the feet. 
You pause for a moment, 
tying your ankles into knots. 
Now you rise, 
a city from the sea, 
born long before Alexandria was, 
straighway from God you have come 
into your redeeming skin.
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