what sound do you make when your bones hit the floor? heavy like the noise of a slamming door. light as a bird, bones do sound soft as whispered words.
when they are ripped from your body, a little, you’ll look pretty and brittle and breakable; little china doll, I advise you not to fall.
tapping on bones, like sticks, little drummer boys make a war cry noise. the battlefield is invisible until it’s not, and your skin prickles.
fingers, bony spiders, crawl hurting, tearing it all. barren like a desert the bones do seem bleached and white, like a mother that weeps.
gravestone bones like little dancers. strong as milk, shatter army advances in you; they sabotage you, then they try to break through and crack and bend. they’ll be out! they’ll be much better then-
but your body, made of jelly misses the commensalism. bones, they create a schism between mind and body. they’re ever so naughty.