Jezebel
Since the dogs had devoured her flesh, their faces painted red,
so that their teeth appeared white as chalk headstones,
her bones became jealous and rose up, placing themselves
before her mirror, the index finger of the right hand twitched
towards the rouge, applying it to the cheeks of her skull
with surprising dexterity, then plonked a tiara on her hairless head
which skated around like a child’s first spin on newly formed ice,
creating a whirlwind in which two emeralds, green as Babylon,
rose out of her jewel box, caught the setting sun, fired stripes of crazed light
across the walls, bouncing off her bony feet like dancing girls at a wedding feast,
before jumping into her eye sockets,
looking down in reverent memory of her breasts,
prompting her to gather fine linen around her rattling rib cage,
place inside two ripe pomegranates:
juice smeared in perfect redness around her teeth,
pelvis thrust forward onto the window sill like the rising moon,
feeling quite satisfied, once again
she leaned out of the window and defied the dogs.