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her guts spilled all over the kitchen counter

for you all to prod and pick out potentials;

for you to chew the possibilities and spit them out

twisted, brand new

so, let’s pretend

it is possible he meant that

he wasn’t sharpening his knives at all

or it’s possible that he was oblivious

to the sharp edges slicing her skin;

or maybe he believed that she wanted to be carved

sharing the same fate of an October 30th pumpkin

or it’s even possible that he really just wanted to see

the way her light flickered against the wind

illuminating her newborn emptiness