sidebrow

from Lizard

Have you had enough


grief? There’s more.


When all is quiet


it forms in words


as simple as a cup.


It clings to her like


lotion, invisible


silken. The cup is


cracked and the


lotion stings, thoughts


form a hood and


finally she falls


asleep to dream of


impossible cakes and


conductors on tiptoe


putting out fires


before the place


burns down