 |
| White Woman, James Whistler source |
The rats come out of the walls at night
As bones crack in the leaves
Balancing upon the edge of sleep
Teeth gnawing at my memories
My mother dances with a door
Pirouettes a rug around the room
I say I've never heard her laugh that way
As her face unsolves in the moon
An old man trembles in the barber's chair
His face wrecked with new grief
As the razor erases all his tears
I watch minnows clean his teeth
Whiskers brush against my eyes
The globe shatters beside my bed
A woman whistles ancient lullabyes
About the memories of the dead
