Is an art, like everything else.
I do it exceptionally well.
I do it so it feels like hell.
I do it so it feels real. (43-47)
I turn and burn.
Do not think I underestimate your great concern.
You poke and stir.
Flesh, bone, there is nothing there—
A cake of soap,
A wedding ring,
A gold filling. (71-78)
Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And I eat men like air. (82-84)