- Vol. 02
- Chapter 04
Image by Jean Gill
Dead Scales
Nothing can scratch at--It could be worse
(hold tight you pretty images)
that’s ‘ow' you sculpt—
It’s winter now,
something beats out under
the mud and swollen ground—
it hurts like lipstick
corkswerving
and dead among scales
frost clouds the bathroom window
and I am made up in the mirror.