Galaxy Child Under a Mirror

She was quiet. Too quiet. He slid the knife up under her chin.
"Wake up, girl."
She didn't move.
"I said wake up, damn it!" He pulled the knife back and shook her shoulders violently.
Her frame moved limply, her head rolled to one side. Her thin gown had scrunched up on her torso, revealing too much of her scrawny legs, but she didn't fix it. "You wake up or I'll fix you up real good, you hear me, girl? I'll give ya some make up for that other eye! And that will just be for your breakfast."

*

The night before she had run out into the moonlight, collapsed on the grass and stared spitefully at the stars. So perfect. So bright and beautiful. So clear as diamonds in a mirror. Reflecting into infinity. The wind pretended to offer a cooling embrace but stopped at the trees. A mirror, she thought. That was it. She went back inside and looked at the ragged reflection looking back at her. She punched it in the face.

*

He was growing impatient. He took the knife back out and leaned over her body to press the flat end of the blade hard against her trachea.
"Rise and shine, you sunny little girl. I've got a surprise for you. Some of the guys think you're real pretty. They want to meet you. But you have to get up first. Unless you want me to let them in here and wake you up themselves." Still there was no response.
"What the fuck kind of drugs you on? Get up God dammit!"
He pulled one of her emaciated shoulders over to the edge of the bed. That arm, which had been tucked up under the pillow with the other, swung over to the side of the bed.
"Holy fuck."
There was a crimson bandage wrapped around her wrist, no it wasn't crimson, it was a white bandage. It had been a white bandage, strung loosely around her frail bones. He pulled out her other arm to find it in a similar state of disrepair. He pulled up the pillow. Soaked through the back, as was the mattress just beneath it. He scrambled to find a pulse. Hardly there. "Holy fuck." He stood frozen as the pulse grew quieter. Then backed away. Out of the room. And shut the door.

Cat Lives

Cat sits behind cage
Bored
Man comes in
Cat leaps up
Tries to catch his coattails
Snags his heart instead

Cat sleeps on couch
Content
Man comes in
Cat wakes up
Swats away his gentle hand
Signing it in red

Cat hunts in field
Brave
Man comes out
Cat pounces down
Returns to comfort of house
Victim having fled

Fire Steps

I crash down to the bottom of a mason jar
Reach all around and stroke the smooth glass
The lid’s not on, I see a star

There’s a little path in the dark woods of my heart
And it could take you right up to my love
But those last steps are all on fire

I lay down under the moonlight’s soft glow
Until a meteor falls and the jar is smashed to bits
I stand and clap, what a show

There’s this big, old oak tree at the foot of the stairs
It could take you right past those burning steps
If you could only reach its branches

I scrape my foot on a shard of glass and red
It burns and blisters like I’m climbing those steps
My heart locked, even to my head

Goat’s Feet

Some distance from the wayside of a harbor
I lingered here in this ardor
To carry on the mire
A flame of azure fire

Searched for the young kid lost in the marrow
Drowning, while distant Yarrow
To look upon the tweed
Of goat’s foundered seed

On shelves we held our devils
On shelves that we disheveled
On shelves we held at bevels
Disheveled befell our devils

Many miles north of the furthest earthen pole
Lies womb and birth the toll
To pay is far preceding
The hour lies there bleeding

Rusted at the bottom of the old stone well
On the faded collar his bell
To mingle with despair
Adolescent disrepair

On shelves we held our devils
On shelves that we disheveled
On shelves we held at bevels
Disheveled befell our devils

Gated with a white cross of elephant bone
The place where I took you home
To mirror my dance depleted
Shadow you never defeated

Shelves that were disheveled
Abounding with your devils

Lady Lemonade

I’d rather be a dog sipping
Hot cocoa
Than a lady lemonade
Spinster swallows
And I choke on the scarf you made

There were six of us in the back
A yellow rust
Spray painted melody
Bump bump splash
The rubber crashed into the sea

That dog keeled over
Five days ago
Buried under the lemon tree
They picked up ice
To fill the glasses on the balcony

The pickup grew quiet
Fields held frost
We used to sneak out in the cold
Midnight held close
Six miles left us before we grew old