doing time

stretched thin
by the last one. beaten
with the ball
peen hammer
of her
mouth,
the torture
chamber of her house,
deprived
of news and weather
from afar,
untouched by hands,
affection
off limits.
fed
unsalted food,
unbuttered
whole
wheat bread,
not a starch in miles
around, you crawl
home
and sink into your own
bed, linger
in the cold
light of your own ice
box
pondering what
to fry next.