crucifix

I am wrung on bitter wood
Outstretched to die like a coward
Velvet with the liquids of the body
I am rotten with the wound

String the cuts like cable
Holding your arms for their shame
Naked as the nail, it
grows alongside the bone
in the marrow even as a child

Lonely spread as cancer
As tobacco as smoke as poison
smeared as venom jam
Slow-spreading slow death
As if I am dying in slow motion
Decaying as soon as I exited the womb
As if I slid from between my mother's legs
straight into a casket

I am a grave
My body a black hole