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