I see the dimples in your shoulders
and want to build a dollhouse
decorate each little room
smaller and smaller details
drill down to the dust of dolls.
I want to know how you hurt yourself
when you think you deserve punishment
or don't think, just slip into old snake skin
too taunt, too old, corseted hold
stretched thin, tearing skin.
I think about how my fingers have bled
near constant since I teethed and could
gnaw and rip and chew myself, never heal
just fresh on fresh, new on new,
till the grand pattern is chronically old.
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