Featured in Issue 1 of Madcap Review
A bone of some
thing not human
an animal bone
small dull white
an arc rounding to edges
braised brown
cut with canyons
and rivers
that once ran
There are tiny holes at the edges
pin pricks that lead to a
hidden hollow land
where creatures who see
dark as light live and love
their bony lives
The curve in the middle
like a dancer
bending to song
lifting to spirit
The rough brown edges
blood dried blood lost
dark flesh darkened by
rupture
Someone killed
the flesh that
housed the bone
It has scars like me
its naked shape unafraid
to show where it hurts
where fissures cleave in two
separate the flesh once connected
What god once joined
man put asunder
There is a song in the bone
There is a song in the hollow
There is a song in the scar
I sing it
Madcap Review 