Saturday, May 5, 2018

stones on the floor of my tongue

there is a torrent of words I long to unleash
from behind the ivory bars of my teeth
and the prison guard of my tongue

my body is a vessel
a capsule
a container
my body is a mess of symbolism
and imperfect perfection that trembles on the edge of resplendence

I could not name
my pulsing organs
or introduce you to my nerves and capillaries
but
I can show you
the way they sing
in the depths of my being
knit tight and held close by blood and bone and gristle

string my blood vessels along
and tie my hands tight with their ends
drain my fragile wrists dry
and drink deep from the well of my eyes

where are my pearly bones hiding
that you must search so avidly for them
how can I hide my tendons
after you have asked so nicely for them
how did I manage to lose
the only lungs I ever owned
and why did they elope
with my silk walled kidneys

my heart has lost her head
and weeps into the skirts of my bladder
while her lover
my ears
long for what's inside her

a chill
reminiscent
and fond
whispers sweet nothings to my stubborn spine
while whatever else inside me

                   shivers

deep

           and dying

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