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Your face like a freshly dug hole.
How it started: the rage, the dead cat
that you told me to bury and forget
about.  Your face like the oriole I found

with chewed off wings, cranial sutures
opening.  I like that you are vertical
and black.  I like that you are a huge
flat slab while sleeping.  How it started:

we said good morning, but it wasn't.
Your face like a soldier sweeping for
mines.  I like that you wear rabbit
wigs.  Tiger gloves.  I like that you

think love is irrelevant, we are too
smart to believe that it isn't on the
verge of extinction.  Your face is
pharaoh or vulture, depending on

the light.  Your face is the very last
vestige of blood on a neck or spine.
How it started: natural enemies,

owl and crow eating breakfast
together,eyeing each other
suspiciously over tea cakes.  Owl
likes crow's waxy secretions.  
Crow likes the way owl's wings
bend around to seem as if he is

always in prayer.  Your
face like a polygamist favoring
one woman over all the others.

Your face like a freshly dug grave.
This is how it starts: shoveling
at the edge of a garden, covering
the evidence with hard dirt.

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