Gradient, pale faced. She stands out
against mixing blue and red backdrops.
Where do you run when it gets too
hard? I ask her. Purple shaded lips
stitched with silences' thread. Her eyes
watch me while I lay in bed, dead deer
head-dress, gaping maw, death moan
constant, sits on bloodstained hair. Antlers
point heaven-ward, all ten points. Ten
sharp prayers piercing navy sky, puncturing
the atmosphere. More holes equal more
stars, right? She doesn't answer me.
She doesn't know how. Where does
the girl end and the deer start? Her
eyes tell me they are the same. Same
eyes, same mouth, same death.