This woman bit her nails off We fondled her hair as she pared her calluses with size 15 blade hovering at forearms former intimacies Every day the flour kept count of the growing depletion of keratin freshly kneaded dough convulses at the tensing pressure on her peeled, cut tips She is taught by the sink with pan of steaming oil gushing over her wrist We could hear the air setting a crescent on her lips her fast is broken with antibiotics Every day her dressing is ripped away we keep unwrapping a new skin and old blood bubbling we let her paint a red brighter than white she is chowing on her bite by bite placed below her molars iron and bread