This morning
I am my father's daughter
with a marching Hessian headache
and a warchant "guten morgen."

This morning
keep my memory
from the grindstone,
raise my eyes to only dawn
while the apologies knaw
at your ankles.

Heute morgen
I take inventory of the bruises.

***

The knive-eyed child with
her chin on the counter
doesn't know about girls who
chew their bottom lip and
don't wear pantyhose so
she shaves her legs and
hides from shine's reflection
as the claws grow in.

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