Lisa D’Onofrio
Sweet Meats
Week I
My new red shoes
lie in the grass
waiting to be plucked
Week II
A rare ripening
in February
fruit falls early
Week III
Lap of flesh
against flesh we shower
wearing only each other
Week IV
Sinking poppies
in the toilet bowl
another perfect loss
Amaryllis
The orange nylon undies on the radiator
stuffed in her apron pocket
before Dad walked in,
the traces
of crème eyeshadow,
like crumbled candy floss
The way she moved from basket to line
as if pushing through earth
The slight vibrating
when she washed up
Her gloved hands blooming
the water scarlet
I never guessed whose small attentions
forced her out of dormancy
he never supposed at all
commenting that year on how
long summer was
and longing for the fall.
Left
The stuff
i bought
the last time
we went to Ikea
is still in its boxes
waiting to be put on the shelves
you never put up
Close Work
She’d sorried
from the beginning
Had
plucked
bandaged
stuffed
plugged
until what was left
was small enough
to place under the mattress
in a box she’d decoupaged herself.
Then, she’d pierced her tongue
with a crochet hook
and with a rather fetching purple thread sewn her lips together
In the end she was displayed
in her coffin
and the entire congregation missed
the ladder in her tights
Except for her cousin’s niece’s friend (she was visiting)
who took out her needle and smiled.
__________
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