Intrusion
-Denise Levertov
After I cut off my hands
and grown new ones
something my former hands had longed for
came and asked to be rocked.
After my plucked out eyes
had withered, and new ones grown
something my former eyes had wept for
came asking to be pitied.
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After I attacked you in bed
and spun like an alligator
with its prey clenched in jaw,
salty flesh felt between each cuspid,
I trusted you would drown in the sheets.
You didn't. My fingers lost
grip and broke off into the mouth
of yesterday. The skin of yesterday
is dry with sand bumping over its back.
I grit my teeth and try to pluck
each grain to collect and rebuild
the hourglass for tomorrow.
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