Medication

A wisp of oxygen coated in nicotine A Pavlova tutu caught in the snare Of a petticoat flooding like a Mouthful of cigar smoke, rupturing Clouds and folds beneath her Like the angel of a Christmas tree The cold glass eyes, filled like A champagne flute, their cataracts And dead black amnesiac stares Watching and forgetting in an instant Saline girl approaching like a panzer man Caught in a bubble, completely Separated, the heavy gate slammed The cemetary forging into the photo frames Those wide eyes told tales but Now they sit on a shelf of wrinkles Expressing pain for those young ones Are gone now like the mothers chained To parliament gates, fighting endlessly Under the snow globes of petticoats The netted window of sickness catching Out shadows, the bubble, a fish Bowl, her hand catching the rough salt Watering the flesh. White apron, thick crimson cross.