Trepidatiously putting this out there

Her Hamster Devoured its Young

There were no fragments to bury
under the apricot tree
No mourning her disembodied family.
She grew into her eyelashes
She shed her father’s eyes
pawning the lapis
as passage to her mother’s side

Suicide too dark
Maybe hit by a car, she’d survive?
Would a father notice
the billboard in his bed
squeezing her cheast in desperation?

Her first lovers were stuffed
humping animals
a beak, a paw, a wing
Her hips pocket knives
whittling