all three of us around the table
including the dead one, four
stop biting me or you won’t get to heaven

she shoots out to the garden in shame
desperate to get a response from the fairies
to whom she had sent intricate word

I think I’ve got powers, she declares, when back in
overwhelmed, surprised, a doubter.
If I believed in life after death I could’ve sworn

that we were all dead and in heaven
but I don’t.
And all the pots and pans in the kitchen toll.