Lonely Place — K.Hunt

She peeled the face off
Not once
But again
No sound of protest was there from within

Wouldn’t stop there
Couldn’t give up entirely
Worked her way ’round the collar
As one might a hare
Getting the thin blade along the breastbone
Cutting all the furry feet off
Pulled hard at the loose skin
Nothing, not a peep

There must be a past and a future in here somewhere
She pondered
Between beginning and end
Or “head and tail” in such terms
This can’t be all for nothing, this labour
Not even a ghost at rainbow’s end moaning
“GO BACK,” or maybe, “TAKE ME WITH YOU”
Not so much here as a recidivist’s yearning

She looked at the face in her hands
It was not scared, nor did it smirk or smile
No wind rattled the boards of her house
No rain pissed her
No cold frightened her

She stayed up all night long with her eyes open to the sky
Hoping the moon would blind them
Even the sun refused, and after that, a queer little green-looking man
Who had always lived down the road

That night she poked at her fingers ’til nothing at all came out
Pretending something did

Finally, determining she was not real
She patted the face back on