A Night on the Town
Sitting on the edge of the bathtub
dulling the razor as you attach
that great, dead bird to your head.
Its broken wing cascading off your
shoulder as tweezers slip off unruly
eyebrows, leaving iron-willed margins.
Eyelet opened to the chest, and
the clamorous small of your back lends
its black paint to the upturned corner of eyelids.
Ravens dip their feet, and sashay
to the window with their dead sister.
Vacating the bathroom, clutched and lacerated.
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