in service of a ring
born in the zoo of teeth and skins,
mary harvests hands.
her tongue, quiet as a stone.
feet, tanned by fire and rock.
a cauldron hangs at her waist,
waiting for an unready meal
like a hatchling.
witches crawl from the flesh
of rest. today, flames sacrifice
wood to answer a belly’s demand.
This poem originally appeared in Counterexample Poetics. It is also included in Colin's first full-length collection of poetry, The Mattress Parlor (Scribble Fire Press, 2011).