The Stone and the String and the Mother They Murdered
My nails are getting long
so I might as well dig in
puncture my chest
skin this (fatuous?) doe
the scent of fresh blood wafting
as my digits wade deeper
I pull out a stone, smooth and
slightly porous
with a single red string
tied neatly around
Smash it, gnash it
the scarlet line frays
I catch a glimpse of
precious stuff inside
I chip my teeth
to chew and swallow
the glimmering mass
filling me
whole
I am illuminated, glorious
harrowed as an orphan fawn
Copyright © Kathleen Shay | Year Posted 2014
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