The images couldn’t
tell if they started inside
her head,
or if they
existed because she
could perceive them.
The hand of it all
kept painting to keep
them in frame.
If uterus,
then flag and Ferris
wheel. If octopus,
then keytar
and gargoyle.
If hummingbird
cat
whisker
vase.
If you feed an image
a dumpling,
your stomach
will twist into
a blue lizard.
It’s so cyclical.
My effigy enters—
swirls
leaves,
and exits out
the window
with chopsticks.