Fossilize

There is a deep sadness that rests in these bones,

You can see it if you look close enough,

Do you see it wilting? Do you see it rotting?

A dusty scar, a well-made suffering, a sturdy ache.

When the weather is nippy and needy,

The pain shivers and sharpens, turn to a bow and arrow,

it can pierce everyone around it,

It is naïve to think it will spare you.

So, I wrap my bones up in a protective cloth so tight they almost break,

So that I don’t get broken, breaking you you too.

It’s the last thing this tender spine wants to do.