Black Tofu
By Peter Scott
He ate to his heart’s agreement
While she left food on her plate
The muscles on his body
Enlarge with temperate use
As hers went to waste with entropy
Every spoonful is counted by him
Her lack of nutrition is enjoyed
He says he is building a shrine
To honor her
At the same instant she faints of anorexia
“No it isn’t a disorder”
The woman violently denies
Intaking so little
She ought to die
An educated woman
With knowledge and foresight
Why won’t she understand
Science of this magnitude cannot be rebuked
Shock and terror from his mouth
He watches a slow desecration
Working at the other end
Jogging is his consolation
Of knowing all too soon he’ll be alone
Left with his health in hand
And memories so sad
Working for a goal of lifetime preservation
Her virtues protrude from the dead
Why couldn’t he be gone instead?
Then again
Everyone needs a character flaw.
