Shoulder Replacement: metal ball and plastic socket

by Heather Cadsby

The butter coloured python doesn’t like
my shoulder anymore.
She keeps slipping off
like a silk shawl. She dangles
down my back challenging me
to reach behind and grab her.

Once when I dyed my hair red
she hissed imposter and whipped her tongue
at my pinched not-so-sure face.
I let it grow out.

But not everything grows back, I tell her.
She won’t ever be my neck warmer,
my stole, again.

Her temperature-sensing face
knows there is something new
and it’s not warm-blooded.

— from Juniper Volume 3, Issue 2