after Laura Gilpin
I am the two-headed calf;
the beast with a burden.
Scars and scabs I cannot peel
or wear as smiles or storylines.
I am hideously on show –
all this human – put me in a museum
and watch my breath fog up the glass;
the alarms will balk at my audacity
to still be here and live.
When I should be in a meadow
beneath glittering starlight, without fear,
without drowning myself in formaldehyde
before asking if there is anything more I can give.
Poem: © Kristiana Reed 2021