Cry into the moon when your ribs crack with the weight
My cancer lives in the brain
Haunts my dreams with smoke and faded curtains
Sleeps curled in the depths of my tea cup
“I want to be alone"
 Cries my fear
“Break my bones, sweet lady.
Carry my dust on your warmest breeze.
Take me, and we will live together in the sky.”
The moon, sufficiently charmed, lowers a rope and ties it around my rib cage.
She pulls and pulls
My rib cage ascends, but my feet remain firmly planted on the ground.