the stars like cool flames above

my bedpost. the world turns

 

at my feet, i can feel

its soft breath: warm. expectant—

 

waiting for me

to break. the world does not know

 

pain. there is molten rock

where its heart should be. my body

 

is taxed, stamped for approval at the end

of each day. my body did not make it.

 

my body denied—a black hole. my body

is not whole. it carries with it the weight

 

of a thousand seas shatters glass, bruises,

with the slightest touch of hand.