Flesh, flesh and
bone
the grave digger
clawing away at
the dirt
a shovel first
then hands
years of nail
biting offers the
earth a home
under his skin,
I am not one
to sift
patiently waiting
for old coins
or gold
the broken skull
of a cat, a chipped
molar
that belonged to
a father, forgotten
in the yellowed papers
of time. Skin,
skin and bone
I died a year ago
hollow, rattling in
the fist of my
mother
white sheets that
wrapped my
limbs
are pulled tight,
a half ghost
human shaped
my mouth is wide
with the Earth,
taken in and
****** like a plum,
skin and flesh
swallowed
whole. There is
only bruised
fruit on the
funeral table. As
the grave digger
claws out my
hole. My first
fixed home,
a house of
soil and acidic
tears. Minerals
and salt
mixing like the
marrows of
lovers
buried in the
ground. I will
never leave
rotting, skeleton
shaking, the deep
breath before the
plunge. A war
lost, my final
hour and I am
home
death,