poem: do not ask me to eat when i am not hungry

in the room where the husband did not die
the third wife sits, splays, lacerated — the birds are
thick this time of year. I can feel the Feeling come
and I can feel the healing, but it is
easier to curl into it. take this pain, this wanting to
be lacerated: and understand, this is where
the line break occurs. she crept in on the gains of the
day, every week had a rotten day. she says tonight
let us please stay home let us rest.