MARISA CAPPETTA
Pica
the persistent ingestion of non-nutritive substances
She craves stone the most. An archaeological hammer arrives by post and she hurries it under
the mattress. Unwraps it when the family is asleep. Steel glints in the moonlight and tempts
her tongue with its lethally-slick allure but she stays focused. She kneels beside the limestone
wall and chips out a small divot with the chisel end, crushes it with the flat end of her tool
and places the powder on her tongue. Still, something lacks. While she ponders she bites off a
piece of emergency chalk she keeps under the pillow. Bone, stone, shell. None satisfy.
In a sweat-soaked dream she dissolves her mother’s pearls in wine vinegar.