Shrew, By Christina Lanni
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Shrew, By Christina Lanni

Shrew, By Christina Lanni

Poisonous

saliva slips

between your teeth.

Mouths hungry

 

for parts of a body

but not a soul, not a mind,

not a word:

Butterflies

 

swarm around me

then fall

to the ground

 

as a caterpillar.

I climb

trees forty feet tall

that shrink

 

into blades of grass.

I submerge

in freezing lakes

and wash up on a shore

with a crimson sand

 

shower curtain.

I meet women

behind peeling wallpaper

and green knights

who call

 

for my head. Searching

my mind for a sound.

Yes, I say, anything

that screams “women behaving

badly” Burned,

 

tied over the flames,

tried over the flames.

Trapped in the kiln

a woman stands,

 

now a statue;

immovable,

a work of art,

but void of life.

 

You hold me close,

exhale, as your arms

become chains crossing

my body: announcing

“this next trick is

 

the taming

of something wild.”