Poem: Carving Knife

 

Annee Olofsson

I do not keep self

Sacred I do not.

 

When I is involved,

I will rot.

 

Worn, they,

they think I is silly

 

I drinks them in

I is your daughter.

 

I is charming, girlish

honeyed voice, ever giving. 

 

I will snarl,

They confuse it for a smile.