Sour smiles and tangled truth,
she slices the heel off her foot
to fit the fucking shoe — then
hacks at the other and laughs.
Drops the razor — mother’s placated,
and she slams resentment in a casket
of wrath, for even if the heels heal
her desire for breasts will persist.
She scratches a smile, bites the
tongue of regret and savours its bile.