I keep waking up with headaches. I don’t know
what this means. Last night in the bathroom mirror
my skin turned transparent; I read my veins like rivers
on a roadmap, puckered with goosebumps,
woke with a cramp in my jaw. I keep dreaming
all my teeth are falling out. I think that means
I’m afraid of abandonment, or is that falling?
Right from the start you were famished,
my mother said to me one day on the phone,
as if I didn’t already know how much I could take
from someone if they’d let me, afraid
to take anything in case I never stop.
All afternoon in the magnolia the catbird
has been shrieking itself hoarse. At night, trains
rattle and wail past the house. Here comes another one.