I feed my body to dogs outside my window, closing
Shutters with my tongue and pliers with my nails.
They talk to me in hushed voices over the storm,
A fragile whisper under the roof, I close my eyes
Remembering the bite marks on my thighs.
The carcass of my body lays beneath the bed; I daren’t
To give it a proper burial, as cursed in death as in life.
As a child I broke mirrors and chased cats, the bad luck
Raining from above with every step, painting me rotting
And blind from the beginning.
They’re hungry for more, my bones chewed up and spat out
Onto the floor. I rinse and wash my hair to become soft and long,
To spin into silk and weave it for a girl who will take me in.
I plant teeth in flowerbeds, singing lullabies for them to sleep
As the birds nests in skulls and hips.
Night comes faster in the winter, the freezing ground
Opening up under corpse breath. Roses will wither near
My unmarked grave; don’t waste a life for mine when
It has all come to an end, the dogs guard the grounds,
Hunting for fresh meat to eat.