The Heart-heavy

Like a wet cloth over
The heart, heavy
Feel it in the marrow of the
Bones, itching in the muscles but a
Tired. Seems a hanging of the
Head like the spine was removed
But, move like quake lines of the earth
Hidden but hungry and
Stretching empty and full across
Foreign expanse

Bruise a layer beneath
the skin, I am not purple or blue but
Inside I am a sea of endless contusing
Concussed in the brain: i am nothing
Sign the cross from forehead to shoulder, cross
Your neck with a fist, hands closed to
Mimic the knot in your throat from
which you fasten a noose

Of dust I am and to dust I shall return.


9/20/17