Nov
16
Atrophy
I’m peeling downward
at my throat
and sinking in my skin
as it outgrows me
and falls off, and
the dirt of where I’ve been
reveals to me
a history
in tattoo ink and scars
while marrow boils
in my bones
and I preserve myself in jars.
And my voice has
unwound its note
and decomposed my thoughts
as I took a symphony
I wrote
on hearts and fate and rot–
rotting ‘way memory.
And muscle in
my cracked body
unwinds and shrinks
to leave exposed in gold
the lackluster matte
to my soul.
