she bathes in neon television soaps; fluorescent tubes feed her mind with lies; she always eats microwave dinners.
she wants to forget and she wants it to be easy.
pink blush, black eyeliner, and red lipstick sit out on the coffee table.
there, at night, in solitude, she puts on her clown face for the mirrors in the hall haunting her with reflections to see.
then she takes her pain pills, antidepressants, blood pressure pills, and sleeping pills, the little white stars in the gloom of the night sky...and in bed, she wipes away her tears with scar tissues.
(an amniocentesis needlepoint dream) now her dead daughter is traveling down a tube, she sees the bloody corpse under fluorescent lights.
abortion is a tragedy.