Silence of the Lamb
by Arthur Fairley

She refused
to take her words orally.
The earliest were force-fed by a

panicked mother. Hopefully
out of harm’s way. She began to dance
open-mouthed through the gland’s shadow,

a wail-harp is brought in,
little by little white notes are torn
from her throat

mucous-torn
uterus-torn
it is the breeding season of song.