Hard-necked Porcelain

I’m hard-necked,

stiff-necked,

denser than ceramic.

I easily crack

under pressure.

On a good day,

I’m pungent.

I season conversations

with my hard-necked porcelain garlic.

My ivory face cringes smile. 

My eyes neither blink 

nor cry black. 

Even my limbs fail 

to compromise. 

I sit and watch. 

Watch.

From the chair 

across from 

your bed.

Yes, I watch you. Watch.

Every move you make

is etched into my skull.

You will crack

long before 

I do.

a collaboration with Barbara Leonhard

published in Hotel Masticadores