the thing was born
with the threat of rose buds
and carnation petals
looming overhead like
a guillotine, half-strangled,
face white and streaked with blood
and other things.
and then a nurse waves a wand
and the face is flushing pink
and then mottled red
and then the thing finally
screams, purple and punched and
ugly as a squashed grape.
and when the thing's skin is cleaned
and the feet are rubbed in red
and pressed on a pink page
and a strand of sooty hair is snipped
and looped with crimson ribbon
and the mess is pressed to the same sickly
pink,
she's trapped.
