In the aquatic
stillness of late afternoon,
voices ribbon softly
on the wind. Two hands
carve out my sternum, brutal and precise.
My soft, meaty heart, the
pitted heat of me, ring on first
finger cool against slick wound.
I set myself deeply there
like a stone, blinking
through tears at the carpet
of silver shoots now spilling
over the earth before my feet. Give me
what you carry and I'll bear it, I'll bear it.
Give me what you carry
and I'll bear it.