The only way you can strip a bear
down to skin is with dart and gas-

            (light),
            or bullet-
            hands
            and knife.

Shined shoes and bare feet
pooled in my pelt. I was family
room luxury—but not for me.

I tried to scrape myself off
the marble floor—tried to unbreak,
and remake, an entire body.

By the time I stood, my fur had turned
to felt. But I’m a girl—
I learned

            to tailor,
            to stitch,
            to cut and carve
            a covering.

Sometimes when I’m alone,
I remove my coat.

My glass eyes still reflect light—
but sometimes my fingers fumble
with the buttons made of bone.

Shagufta Mulla is the art editor of Peatsmoke Journal, a veterinarian-turned-content writer/editor for TIME Stamped, and an artist. Her poetry has appeared in or is forthcoming from Stoneboat, Crab Creek Review, Blood Orange Review, the speculative poetry anthology NOMBONO by Sundress Publications, and elsewhere. Shagufta lives in Oregon, but you can find her on Instagram @s.mulla.dvm.