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One day that old rag and bone
man came for me, his eyes
bent on wooing. Like my sister
before me, I went with him, away from Mother,
away from cows, hen house, endless eggs
to be gathered, to a threadbare bridal chamber.
His brown eyes each a chamber
unkempt, and therein my flesh and bone.
I would find her, her eggs
unbroken. I only have eyes
for you, he sang. Untrue! Mother
warned of such songs. My sister
didn't listen. I found my sister
while he was away. In the last chamber
of the house she lay, undone of mother-
maker, all bit and bone
now, hair flung, eyes
asunder, belly-up, eggs
spilt. I bundled her eggs,
assembled sister
piece by piece, eyes
in last. She stood marked in the chamber
dark, alive again. I was bone-
bland when he returned. Mother
taught me deceiving. Mother
calls them girl-pearls, our eggs.
I show him mine and a ring of bone
he gives me, the ring my sister
wore. Innocent of chamber
he thinks me, but my sister's eyes
see again. I look in his eyes.
There's a deal to be made, Mother
would say. Take this chamber
of my heart and bring a basket of eggs
and gold to Mother, (A sister-
laden basket) for this bone
ring. I make a second sister, of flower-decked bone,while
he's gone to Mother. Then I'm off, coated with eggs and feather.
My twin watches from the chamber window with daisy eyes.
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