i think that skidding down your backbone would be a death wish
as it’s curved like a bow
only ugly and obscene and not delicate and smooth.
the knobs of your spine make good foot holes if
i ever want to climb back up.
i think that spiders could lay eggs in your throat
and in the moonlight
i would be able to see them devouring each other
until it’s only their silk that holds your larynx together.
i think that your hair hangs lank from your scalp across your forehead
like rope ladders in front of your eyes,
which are dark and moth eaten with an ironic little
sparkle in the pupils from the reflection of the light in the mirror.
i stay away from the mirror because it shows you something
i can never comprehend.
i think that your insides are hollow, wooden
and carved brutally out of shape
punctured by wriggles of woodworm. every time
i look inside to see how you echo
i get a face full of splinters and a mouth full of sawdust.
i think that if we rolled marbles down each of your clavicles
they would meet in the middle and race
to balance in the dip near your hip bones. that’s where your skin
stretches taut like elastic over gelatin flesh that
i watch liquidize and drip drip drip to catch the chalk-
dust falling off your bones.
i think that butterflies breed inside your stomach,
getting chased and engulfed by acid
every time they spread their wings to find a way out.
i spotted one in your bathroom, perched on the tap,
fluttering its lactic bitten wings full of holes and
failing to fly just as
i have seen you do a thousand and one times.
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and for faving
I love this one so much ! The descriptions are so clever !
You should be proud
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