A pile of skulls with pearls for teeth,
geode eyes, cheeks of moss agate.
Who were these people? I asked as I raked
through boomerang jawbones, white chips,
heads like cracked bowling balls. Misanthropists,
she said and stroked my hair, put her lips to my ear.
Sew them together so they will never be alone,
braid them in the afterlife, stitch the eye-sockets.
She pressed, pinched my backside, ground her heel
on my toe. Caulk the cavities, she said, cat’s cradle
the teeth, stick your fingers through.
Take heed, they bite.
*Published in Confrontation; Issue No. 105/106, Winter 2009/ Spring 2010