Poetry

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17.10.02 |

She didn’t look nervous or calm.

But I wanted to tell her
there was nothing more to get…
she was no longer chewing nail
but skin constantly.
The skin that holds the nail
in place, cushions the fingers from impact.
Biting lengthwise, sideways,
the way the Chinese peck
the scaly flesh from chicken feet
until there is only bone.
I wanted to tell her to wait (two weeks)
But she inspected them over and over
again hands splayed in front of her face
the almost pruney fingers
damp, entering her mouth
making the soft noise of babies learning
they have a mouth/checking their gums for teeth.



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