imagining bone
straining against flesh
when i touch
my own cheek:
where
did i go?
against my surface
used to lie
the safety of
the body, marshes
of yellow fat
fed by red blood,
but even this
recedes,
and i am left with
bone--
white
that would rather
splinter
than bend.
a new skin
that feels
translucent
as glass
overlays
my face.
copper lady
press yourself
closer.
the brush of your hair
brings to the skin of my neck
a vision
of a desert
with a river
cleaving it through.
the noises
that live in these walls--
echoes of
some shattered half hour--
etch sounds
perilously close to the vein
in a color
that looks like blood.
it dries on the cuff.
to remember
the way you wiped
your mouth
on your silk shirt.
tied down and split
like a fig
every sound
reddened as skin
i shake my head
on its thick and chalk-white stem
and nothing
comes loose.
if you
love me,
if you
hate me,
guide me
to that red river
and let
me
drink.
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