she says she is sorry
while she digs her grave
medusa-thick with
clever snakes

she has six mirrors in every room
so she never looks at you
every day, she wakes up,
cold-blooded and picks
at her scales

she knows the doom
and has forfeited love
time and again
so that she only turns herself
to stone. if no other
woman wakes up beside her
enamored and available,
she only has to
worry about the
hardening of
herself