Nothing grows until there’s a crack
a breaking of eggs and earth crust. My liver
my lungs etched in pottery motifs
Cave paintings on my stomach walls will be beautiful
stretched over a cannibal’s drum someday.
You are all silhouettes
statuesque embossing my eyelids
like the sun erupts through cirrus wisps
While you wonder about favorite pastimes in the arctic
you will catch this drift
that earthquakes never skip a boat
a beat to dance around this axis is perpetual morning
stopped abrupt by an equal or greater opposing force
I witness the body dissolve
I become a chieftainess smoking
a cornhusk pipe with tattooed lips
rapt in velvet contemplation.
Her hands deserve
a machete
for your eyes.
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