medusa
Reb ecca Ko ki t us
crush my windpipe
with your palm again
and I’ll crush yours
with serpents
I shudder at the touch
of the sea and its
saline human smells
I collect men carved from stone
—rather, stone carved from
men
you call me villainess,
my anger makes you
uncomfortable
touch my hair
with your dirty hand again
and lose your fingers
they love my red hair,
copperhead hair, and forget I’m
lady lazurus
28
Cauldron Anthology