cyclical decay.

an apple falls and hits the head
of a seamstress in a straight jacket
who ties her knots a bit too tightly
and can't crawl out of her own skin, but
she smiles like a jackal and plays games
with the school children in the garden

that visit her when class is over. they
bring her wood and coals so she can
set herself on fire when the moon comes
to scold her in the night. by dawn, she
is ashes and loose threads, but has just
enough time to repair herself by noon.