The Skeleton Inside of Me

Ezekiel said

The head bone's connected

to the heart bone,

but mine have always felt out of sync,

the dry, brittle calcium

flaking,

from memories

that never marry

with the fantasies I feasted on.

My patellae,

paralyze my frame,

my tongue twists useless in my mouth,

even forgetting my name.

It seems these bones

were only made for carpel wringing,

and aching marrow,

grieving

what was never held

to be lost.