Off-Off
It doesn’t
matter: it’s
only a human piece
cut from a triptych, given a three-part
grade. No Christ, no love of country,
just a face pressed up to the window,
laughing, hung by its ears. Some girl
enjoyed her time among the drawers,
pulling out scarves and scraps of clothes,
sari print, and floral, long green stems
that wrapped around her neck in winter
to stay the cold. She believed the fairy
tale till yesterday: a hungry need, a wolf
with his fur well-covered, teeth artificially
dulled. She didn’t
think he would arrive
so fast, wrapped up and dripping dust.
He didn’t
think he had the suffering down.
