– Make me a unibrow I said to the Manx man.
He places his finger between my eyes as if I am an Indian Princess.
He binds my skin my skin perforated red with his Tarjani I am Vaseline:
Sinks in like mercury, and there is no pain but mnemonics.
– Each brow is a furrow he slurs to me sickly.
– The desire for age will not make you care he observes.
I am afraid to say –I am afraid but my words get stuck on kerosene.
His finger withdraws with sleep pins n’ needles and hallelujah.
His hand chafes his chin at his handi-work he says – I am a man.
I thought he would say genius so to break the awkward silence I say:
– I am Frida Kahlo make me a sandwich.
Kat Finch is an editor and roustabout at Mixed Fruit Magazine. Her work has appeared in Sugar House Review, Petrichor Machine, and The Dirty Napkin.
