(10) Unwind the string from around the bird’s throat; dress it for fire. Touch each feather with apology before you harvest nourishment. Remember what you were taught about using every part, about not wasting. Even the skull and its parts, after it emerges, can illustrate the mechanics of those simple motions allowing us to speak, to grind our teeth, to smile. Canny and uncanny: what leads to the momentous. For instance, I wonder if she passed a hallway lined with mirrors one midnight in May; if she looked into one with a guttering candle in hand, seeking the face of the future she’d marry. How long did she wait? Every part is useful, every part must be fed. The trinity of garlic, onion, and ginger. Salt and bay leaf in the cavity. Pearled flesh. A softening.
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