Heather T

sticks, stones, and the futility of fingers

one catastrophic line

wound around my throat

the razor wire brambles ran

like ivy on dead porches

 

strangling the boards and bones

creeping shards of sundering cold

frayed every quaking nerve

from the sanctity of skin

 

you left me here in ribbons

left me here

and this profane bouquet

withering on the floor

 

all of the thorns purged

that I would rather bleed to death against

than a thousand maudlin words

perfumed with gasoline

 

concussed and warring I shook

for necessary surgery

the lungs locked and pushed aside

if you had reached in

 

with violent nails and wrenched

the ribs from beneath my breast

and lighted candles in the walls

to glance this gasping heart

 

I think I could have then with you

wearing me on your hands

but you were only so

very sorry