Taryn Schwilling

The table was all strewn with feathers
—Mrs. Dalloway

which of course meant
everyone's faces were covered
with a sort of mask     white

linen veiled the skeletons of
the gardener’s birds piled like

chandelier    face-down in the
brandy    the whole scene
brought tears    snapped
hollow bone     saliva-full
sucking every bit to holy white

blinded or kept in
a lightless box like yours
you eat in the dark to feel

the fat fall down your throat