Oranges

My fingertips look like prunes

From all the oranges I peel for myself

To grapefruits and pomelos

The citrus juice has stained my hands

I don’t think I can peel this orange

Could you?

Matter

My body is made of powdered charcoal

Soot and dust

Worthless elements

That if were to disappear

Wouldn’t have an impact on the earth

It would better it

No one wants a woman made of dust

Or soot

Or charcoal

Or cheap scaffolding

All she would do is make a mess.

With all her nonsensical falling to bits.

If I were an Angel

I’d be an Angel of death

Not because I think it’s interesting

Because I choose the hardest jobs to fulfill

No one else will do these acts for me

So I will do them for you

And hope that one day

You will do the same for me

I tie my hair up tight

I don’t want her in my way

When she’s out I feel as if she entangles around me like spiderwebs

Reminding me of all that I have lost

With a heavy heart, I tie her up every morning

I’m sorry I must put you away

For you are too much for a person to bear