An Opium Dream / Janette Schafer

I.

We pop limbs from
the moon, break knots
like inept surgeons,

sing a blessing over
marbled statue breasts
broken brass feet

shuffle-carry the weight
of her legs, cut our scalp
on the sharp silver teeth.

II.

She comes to life,
slithers from our palms.
Her face is ivory honeycomb.

She folds into origami.
Bent, words curl to her easily.
She cups my face,

smashes my mouth
with her head.
I wake in red drool

eat my own blood.

---

Janette Schafer is a freelance writer, nature photographer, part-time rock singer and full-time banker living in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Her writing and photographs have appeared in numerous publications. She holds an MFA in Creative Writing from Chatham University. She has a forthcoming chapbook titled Something Here Will Grow from Main Street Rag.