I am not the enemy, part 5

open season starts every spring
when the weather gives way to warmer thoughts and winter’s end
and the prey: laughing girls and tanning women
show less to show more.
they market the latest diet pills:
chewable outfits of anorexia
darting their eyes with the confidence of insecurity
hoping to catch his attention, her envy.
she will sell her soul for this love, this consideration
for she is convinced that glass slippers do not crack.
so on with the implants, the stilted fitted shoes,
the thick red perfumed breath of bulimia
the I’m-really-like-smarter-than-this-like-dumb-act-you-know,
that she titters for him
for this is open season
and she is prey
and prey run wild,
hunted for food, for sport
and the prey prays for solstice, a lover, a friend
never quite realizing that between the sheets
she is being gutted by the enemy
once again.