Sharp

Published in 'orbis 145', autumn 2008, edited by Carole Baldock.

She’d never known a
sharper tongue,
nor heard a quicker retort,
although they rarely made
much sense.
But it was the eye that
obsessed her.
That single,
untrustworthy eye.
He would turn it towards
her whenever she ate,
unblinking.
She hated how
colourless it was,
the way the slate
feathers rimming it
looked like scales,
and brought back
childhood fear of dinosaurs.
She took to covering
the cage at meal times,
but could hear his
breath, scraping and incensed,
and would push
her plate away.
People began to comment
on her sharp
hip bones, and at night
she would finger them,
thinking of
skeletons.

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