Looking at her, my eyes magnified by anger,
I saw her nose collapse to nostrils in her face,
her eyes narrow, her eyelids disappear,
her lips extend into a pointed, yellow beak;
I thanked the transformation of my rage
that gave me vision.
Later,
I discovered my eyes were little stones
and on my hand instead of hair were quills
and in my blood, not hers, the reptile crawled.
Intellectual beauty, how we are shrunken now.
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