Kristin Heyder
There’s a woman in my house
that only I see We don’t let others in
I toss around a lie on my tongue
guiding it over a crooked tooth
to see if it breaks
I give it to anyone who asks
We plant strawberries on the path
where my driveway used to be
She loses her hair in clumps
I find it under the rug
behind my bed I sweep it up
I wear boxing gloves to sleep
I cook bland meals Save her a plate
that she can’t touch There’s a cut
on our jaw that runs deep
and never bleeds