Medicinal
Francesca Rainosek
Vincent Price noted how funny it was
that acid left nothing but the bones—
no hair or flesh.
Well, lay me down in my bath
and let me find my home.
Crushing charcoal tablets
between my teeth,
I sing the ashes to sleep
on top of petrichor
and manzanilla leaves. “Camomile,” Spanish.
And I’ll remember the days of
fried eggplant
and seeping jasmine tea,
when you told me you would protect me
from the evils of the world.
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