Amie Whittemore
ON SEPARATION ANXIETY
The daughter thinks
of the skink often,
of her mother’s cat batting
the lost tail—
lively and detached,
the tail continues
after the skink slinks away
from its attacker,
pitches
and flinches
without connection
to brain, nervous system—
what else is like that?
What other dead
thing pretends to be alive
to rescue what’s broken?
The lizard slips
under the screened door.
Is she the head
or tail in this parable?
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