If i tell you my bones crackle, coarse carbon black
each time i sit and turn
would you slit a piece of the moon and ask her to mollify my pain?
my hands’ quiver and the elbow aches, screams and shouts as i ink my pain
like a heavy layered pile of stones resting on my newborn thigh
bending my earlobe down…down…
too much healing, prayers
chants and oil
i wither and desiccate in the flick of the time,
i am human, i weep and wipe
with a swollen cotton, yellow glass or a paper
I am hushed and quiet like a falling star
Pain is my new muse, chopping my chin
till i am at point blank.