written by Stephanie Heaven-Terry
downy hairs, pierced cheeks
sleek as silver shears
and ears soft as bleach water.
She recites Hamlet, “I knew him!”, laughing
It looks you dead in the eyes,
Poses by old tomes and tufts of parchment
likely to be just printer paper
and collects scabs
has porous hollows, screeching in thirst.
Marrow like old sponge.
sings a dull note when knocked
and even more satisfying when broken.