Woman with Crow

I am here underneath

the sticky Sprite can,

discarded Snickers wrapper,

and spit-out gum.

Ignore the smell of Monday’s honey mustard

on kaizer with ham, wilted lettuce that fogs the Ziplock bag.

Notice me sink deeper, twist and turn under plastic,

steal the last slit of light that sneaks through the open skin

of rotten banana peel.

From your perch, see the reflection

of a tongued yogurt lid, a leftover glaze of strawberry.

Breathe in stale air, smelling sweetly of stewed apple core.

Nudge paper bowl with ebonite beak,

lone noodle tumbling over rim.

Let your talons explore, curious,

climb down from limb, flip remaining wrapper over,

reveal my body,

ready.

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