Friday 30 November 2012

#5 - The Day I Found That Cold Lizard

She strums her red gills and tells me she loves me.
I blow into my hands and say nothing.

In the ice house, beef carcasses pivot like catwalk models.
She eats a live mouse and asks if I have read Kierkegaard.

I watch the bulge in her throat.
A white tail hangs through the gap in her teeth,

swiping back and forth across her sleek jaw.
She watches me - gulps, gulps,


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