THE RAVEN REVIEW
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  • Home
  • About
    • Who We Are
    • FAQ
  • Submit
  • Current Issue
  • Archive
    • Volume I >
      • Issue I
      • Issue II
      • Issue III
      • Issue IV
    • Volume II >
      • Issue I
      • Issue II
      • Issue III
      • Issue IV
    • Volume III >
      • Issue I
      • Issue II
      • Issue III
      • Issue IV
    • Volume IV >
      • Issue I

MASTER(PIECE)

by April Bannister
scoop out my face with a silver-pronged
fork and make me
gaunt in the cheeks
 
tell you i love you but never
in a letter i don’t know
your number and don’t occupy a return
address
 
and where is the distinction
the difference you are
all over me
 
and i am prettiest when you
cover me in red
 
watch you laughing without sound
 
watch you select the butcher
knife and suggest the saw instead--
not as clean, you say, but
deeper, i say, and you should know
 
i like razor blades over pencil sharpeners
scissors over thumbtacks
compasses only if i’m desperate
 
and never glass, not anymore. and yes,
yes, for my skull a saw will be best.
maybe the knife another time,
honey, through a different heap of bone.


April Bannister is an undergraduate student studying English and Creative Writing at the University of Iowa. She enjoys writing across all genres, especially within a mental health focus. Among others, her work has appeared in UReCA: The NCHC Journal of Undergraduate Research and Creative Activity, The Dog Door Cultural, and The Foundationalist.