A candle shaped from skin
and burning, from the outside in;
the immolation of her eyes
fused wax to face, to form disguise.

i expect you at any moment to set out
a dish to catch the melting
but your fingers are skilled at self-sculpture
(rearrange the knuckles & realign the joints)
you serve softness like a feast, a delicacy

The merchant subtracted his pound of flesh
to induce shame, but there he failed:,
you stretched your face into a veil
(embraced a natural burkha) so to hide
the cavities of mouth and nose,
but left name intact, and eyes exposed.

i stand in your wake, letting the superfluous
folds of flesh slide from my bones
i swallow the excess, a thick lump of skin & veins &
cartilage that clogs my throat & triggers a reflex of reflection
(other women stretch their skin back
to examine the need for a facelift
but i stand here trying leprosy on for size)

09/01/2003

Posted on 09/01/2003
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