The Human Anatomy
Living
is to crystallize into candid shards,
fragile as the tremble of a glass too full;
is to pierce oneself like the sun
sews ray to ray across its mighty core;
is the center to which the ocean
folds in on itself,
glittering a gown of sand
into kaleidoscopic swirls
of glass and salty mists,
flaking lips.
Existence eagerly dips its pale toes in,
sea water slipping through slackened eyes.
It seeps back whence it derived:
a cage of bones.
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