Were eggshells
Sometimes with eggs in them
Sometimes hollow
As if the contents had already flown out.
She made strong omelettes
A powerful kedgeree
And a soufflé that blew minds
And when she shut up
You can bet she was making century eggs.
When the world tried to mould her words
She broke them in her mouth
And spat shell shards
Till they cracked
I remember knocking on her door
With no answer
Only a faint knocking on the other side.
Going round to the window,
Through the white blinds
I could see her at her mirror
Slamming herself against it,
Something hatching,
I never knew what.
