with apologies
from my body
i inherit a fear
of broken teeth,
a pecking want
for skeleton boys
(blue-eyed tombs
that they are),
red-rust hips,
prayer.
.
(oh, give me a night,
and i would sate
the tide, curl
the heavens—leave
you sweetly capsized,
drowning—)
.
from my body
i take a violent
disease, a perfectly
glorious godchild,
a beast, perhaps,
but enough.
