Roadkill

by Leah L. Cole

Standing in the witchlight
Of a thunderstorm at dusk
I cut pieces of bloody muscle
With my kitchen shears
I stir the frying pan absently
Images flicker in my head unbidden
The tail of the comet that night was
A dust smear against the
Chalkboard night.
The doe the color of burning meat
Suddenly in your headlights
Your blood smelled different than that
Which is on my hands now.

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