before the who you are now?
did your fingers curl up and
extend the same way, like reddened
babies, colic-stricken, cuticles
gnawed?
surely you did not admire yourself
as you do now. surely you did not see
how those cigarettes are made to
revel in your purple kiss,
surely you did not congratulate
your sunken cheeks or the way the swollen
sunlight plays off your flattened hair,
or the second glances you
surely attract.
no, you must have noticed the way we
praise you, the envy we hastily conceal as we
steal glances at the goddess,
rapt in conversation with herself -
for what could please her more than the sound
of her own voice, the warmth of
her own gargled speech
puffing small clouds into the
undeserving night?
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