First Rites

by Camille Guillot

Two-faced New Year’s:
deathbed’s birthday.
Wear civet perfume
to open all doors.
Orion is looking.
You’re young, but you’re older.
Wear green rings
to touch your lover.

Holiday, hollow-day,
egg-day or coffin-day?
Wear your hair braided
to spy in glass.
Stay up till midnight.
Watch next year eat last year.
The mirror says maybe,
whatever you ask.

(Published in the 2014 Aonian, issue 56. Murphy Contest first place Poetry.)

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