Black Against the Sky, the Giant Mothers

Black Against the Sky,
the Giant Mothers

Black against the sky the giant mothers
are whispering together in the moonlight –
one of which, the boniest, is mine.
She stuffs my ears with centipedes and millipedes,
she crams my little mouth with bones and tongues,
she pulls my nipples in and out and beats me
with mittens made of pigskin and blood.
We never kiss. We never even try.
We never talk. She’s taught me not to talk.
The things we never talk about are private.