not once do the men ask us
if it is out of character
to starve or feed ourselves
on crumbs in cornered lips

to stay away from hunger
make a skull into a house
lick the crooks clean as sugar
and keep the body warm

forget our brothers forget the witch
forget the bones we foiled as fingers
take only what’s left

a half loaf of bread to eat
a dream of the young self

bent over outside the house
gathering the loose pebbles

when you’ve again eaten up everything
you must dream again of feeling

full as pockets
full as moon