Today, I am no longer
a relic wrapped in furs.
Leaving you, mother and
leaving you, father, oh!
I feel as mean as a harlequin baby.
But now,
I am human again, able
to extract fingernails
from my palms.
Again
my body asks for things:
I see my love move,
india ink eyebrows
on ghosty vellum and
I press and press and press
his calligraphy to me
