Anatomy of Feeling

I. Insides

I split at my seams
And this orbish thick liquid
Pours out –
Some Garbage to
Divest.
I keep my soul, a
Glittering curl of
Light –
Balled up at some
Corner, behind
Some organ or
Bone.
I let out too much
Marrow,
Sappy amber.
You lap it up like
A syrup and
You spit
When you taste the
Secrets I
Keep in my bones.

II. Bones

I am a pile of bones
arranged like a teepee –
I can hear the yelps of
Red feather
Indians.
Dancing –
They set me to
Fire.
I feel my pieces
Float away as
Embers –
They pierce through
The stratosphere –
I. Taste. Stars.

III. Tongue

I forget how to string words along,
Feed me your eloquence
(I want to feel tall).
Your tongue is in my
Mouth and
My lungs pop
Like balloons.
I hear that sound, “Pop”
and then,
I let your hands
Slip underneath me,
But I don't move –
I could sleep forever.

IV. Eyes

Let's just sit here and
Our eyes can do the
Talking.
Our eyes can make light –
Say what we can't
Say.
I have some
Fire
Beneath this chest
Between these
Ribs.
And you say,
“I don't know you
But
I love you.”
I know those words;
I swallow them –
A taste of
Something sour.

V. Light

I'm learning how to love
Again,
You're teaching me a
New way to speak –
With my tongue
Tied to yours
And, this close,
I can trace every word you say.

You teach me to
Open and close

Like a Lotus
Like an Eye
Like a Sound.

I wrap myself up, and I am lost.
I am lost in all your
Light.