I would tie together my chest bones
ribs set high in the arc of my back.
tied with care
my insides
into bows

where i can easily manger to breathe through all the pain

I would turn my bones into dust
My thoughts ghost in the air
pitter pattering across recall in my mind

Urges
Set high up in the arc of my back.
Like angels wings
tied on with care
into hope for flight

where i can easily see my destination through all this haze.