Domestic She unravelled his skin, creased the butts of her fingers carefully, letting the canvass fall to the floor in cascading rolls; set about untwining the ligaments, biting the fat back with her nails.   She slipped his biceps in a box, slopped the buttocks in a suitcase, clawed the brain, dropped it into the grey toilet with a plop, only his blood-stitched heart left, she set about searching for tweezers, excuses, complaints. Daniel Sluman If you've any comments to make about this poem, Daniel Sluman would be pleased to hear them.