I thought friends friendly, & so starved.
I thought friends fiend-like, & so carved
an altar. I came for the communion, not
the conversation; caught fire, blackened
the banister. I had a hell of a time saving
face; facing Mitanni, my president.
Son after son rode the waves; the sight
was hard to believe, to insinuate. Duped,
I was content to watch women carouse:
each carrousel passing in place, pleating
into an envelope of eve. They took
my card, catalogued my number. As I was
pulling, not plucking, my eyelashes, one
after another, they said, come on, said
we’re ready for feeding; together they
pried at my parts, packed me up, a point,
into the little drawers of a chiffonier.
Parried from the door by a large man
in a pearl necklace, my teeth began
to chatter. There was little left: I starved
still. I chose carousal over caving; cabal
over waking. I came to a catastrophe.