by Judith Vollmer
She will rip some hair from your head
Pluck pearls from your spine
She will open you
She will knock your teeth out
She scrapes at your sweet meats
Her own vulva gone rancid
And last she will drain your tender
Eye sockets prancing with your eyes in her palm
With them she’ll look around the universe
Seeing endless rings & spirals
For the first time
Your tendons your bones
Sticks on the ground still working
Themselves in their mother tongue