‘Stainless steel bobbin case’
By Deborah Quirke
An equi-distant, circumferential silver mask
with one gaping black eye in the centre of my face.
My nose flips open to one side.
A door covers my string-like brains.
I am neat. A miniature,
rocket-launched, unpowered, revolving space shuttle
but
my soul
is merely a coil.
My face latches on to
an uncomfortable machine all day
and
I
can’t
breathe.
