I can't sleep. My bones
jut out too much. At 1
am I am still fondling my
ribcage. The cars keep me up and
I'm counting my vertebrae. At 2
the street cleaner comes by. My
tailbone sticks out, a small
protruding nub, the rounded end
of a broomstick.
In the morning I will
stand under the shower I will
operate the faucet I will
wash my hair by touch because
my eyes will have been wiped navy
and black my
ears are ringing.
Is this the morning someone finds me,
warm and wet and naked? I will
wish this over and I will
wish it all over and I will
wish it was all over and I will
run my hands upon and
pinch my bones.