bones were dice tumbled
from the gambler's hand
tears spurt like blood from
a sliced artery
her face swells into
a revealing mask
she turns from the lamp
though she's alone.
Darkness breathes
around the house like
the stomach of
Jonah's whale. The clock
hands march with loud clicks
but her sorrow won't
scab she weeps the
river in which
Ophelia drowned she
weeps the acid brewed
in her uterus
she weeps flames and
the night burns.
(c)Serena Fusek 1991
from The Color of Poison
A Slipstream Publication
Niagara Falls, NY
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