Morning brought a bird with the body of a man. A bird with one
big vacant eye and a beak, smooth; body a sickle, unsatisfied
motion muted by muscle atrophy as her angular, absurd voice
murmured bone echoing upon the innards of a dark steel vault.

Selecting masks, I pause, feeling yellow, flummoxed, suddenly
rash as that sweet-sweet sanitized girl, hearing all bad genes
and running, just as grace drops out like premature teeth, brittle
and bloody, tasting of dry aching curses, hollow white sound.