Such Small Furniture And it hurt, my fury made of splinters She never tries. dynamite        ready to explode our dollhouse the little...

Soon the Snow Would Fly cold bones hurt A little shadow in a dark hothouse the mouse on the collar of my nightgown gone to sleep The sun...

I, Doll was idolatry — pretending to be dependent, idle twirling womanchild, chaînés to wolves, wizards. A pretty please, diseased,...

Fingers Undressing you without caressing you, they’re fumbling while unbuttoning a black cameo appliquéd new Prussian blue dress. Chest...

Choreographers By day, you bleed for him, shed big toenail, tear skin, raw opening he’ll wiggle in, your bustle hoop skirt crinoline. ...