that curves from her lip across her cheek to her ear.
She was cut by a man who found her home &
when she smiles (which is rare) it rises like another mouth &
puckers like it would open & speak &
when she runs (which is often) her features tense & her new mouth glows
like a wire – hot & powerful &
she wears one glass eye on a thong around her neck to see in the dark &
a needle taped to her leg &
she flies a black flag with a man’s face at its center & has etched a red
scar on its cheek & the number 6 between its eyes &
at the end of her street she’s painted a door in the eight foot wall & when she must, she opens it & runs through &
down the hill to the river & to the ship that carries her back
to the beginning.