David Kowalczyk - Goddess Of Frostbitten Reptiles

On a face meticulously sculpted <br />from melancholy memories, <br />her smile remains one <br />of cool poison, of beauty <br />carefully woven into pain. <br /> <br /> <br />Her dreams always take place <br />in January, in fields of snow. <br />She dreams of giving birth <br />to an octopus, to a head of <br />cabbage, to the shadows of herself. <br /> <br /> <br />Once a month, she dons a wig <br />and sunglasses and buys a <br />round-trip Greyhound ticket <br />to a city one hundred miles <br />to the south. <br /> <br /> <br />There she changes into a <br />nun's habit and wanders <br />the streets, loudly praying <br />the rosary in French. <br /> <br /> <br />After five minutes, her menstrual <br />flow begins and her eyes sparkle <br />as the strawberry blood trickles <br />down her thighs, making mystic swirls. <br /> <br /> <br />She prays so loudly not so <br />God might better hear her, <br />but because this is the one time <br />in her life when she believes <br />every word she says. <br /> <br /> <br />This is the only time <br />she is ever free, <br />the only time <br />she can see herself <br />for what she truly is: <br />infinitely tired, <br />eternally frightened. <br /> <br /> <br />Half here, <br />half gone.<br /><br />David Kowalczyk<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem..../goddess-of-frostbit