There are three girls: one is in the back seat twisting her hair
into a grenade. She is a girl you consider marrying.
The other girls are wearing suede; they are slippery as fish
no ocean for a home, just a pail on ice.
They watch things fall apart & suck on cigarettes.
It makes them taste. What radiance, yellow teeth.
Bless their makeup, their false eyelashes, their lipliner.
Radio sounds come on, water bottles crinkle & that’s when
they see it. It crosses the street like no one is coming—
they forget to stop.
There are three sisters: one is broken ribs, swollen face.
The others are ruined lips, crushed spines, splintered hands.
They are unrecognizable & depending on who you ask,
they say they deserved it.