ribcage crevasse
chest set open wide
beautifully breathing treasure trunk
sternum split and bones batwinged
heart half beating in humid air
streaming blood beside stars
a universe inside of us
organs made of stone
stuck to my skin the galaxies spin
look at the left lung
see a supernova suicide
marrow leaking through the letters
your name a red-brown-gold
against the offwhite
rhymes lose radiance
if they aren’t etched
cut below the collarbone
laid bare this blood will write
tomes of tales volumes of vignettes
truth and lies tucked lightly together
beneath blankets
perhaps pages
searching somewhere slowly sifting
for feelings in physical form
lifting the liver and
pushing it proper again
the soul is subjective
content you close me
silk stitches
not a scar sighted