"My beautiful mother pricked her finger sewing.
The blood pilled, beaded, beetle-eyed,
dropped into a jar of venetian ceruse.
How pretty, she thought. Like lips on snow.
I hope my daughter looks like that.
Then she died, because of the ceruse. . ."
Valerie San Filippo is a writer of poetry, fabulism, fantasy, and horror. She teaches Creative Writing at Stony Brook University. Find her published works here.
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