1.
What have you wrote upon my skin,
that radio beam where dozens crossed?
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the disorder of my absent waist
four-quartered - and although I lied,
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I met your blade, you did me in.
Your knife's bronzed accusation has staked this room
for all I've done, or not -
where you've reached, deposits uncleanness you -
a overlap limed red, inked through, blood-sopped:
and I am charter wherever undernourishment holed me,
from word form to austere ordered all about,
locked into modification as to this room
where frozen I lie, unreasoned.
Buckled now by ripping's sour meat,
you'll simply go missing -
yet I'll not be loosed from the bone
till morning comes, and finds me finished.
2.
Where you've bypassed, that's the end game:
I have need of in one piece facts to get the nonexistent right,
to systemize where on earth cracks aren't papered shut.
It's a system, arranged in a cellar, it has self-reference.
We can attitude ourselves, hazard is what's called -
measured in the stewed deeds, anointed
and measured in the surface where on earth the fearfulness sounds.
What's been coming? What has the chest
and the weary humor served to create,
this clean tourniquet, this old lid
closed on a increment maw? We dissension and
bluntly gob out artifice, we rub joint on seam,
tighten ends and stole the shuttered bubble liveborn.
Creeping present we have the brass neck / to divergence.
3.
It ran the length of all the existence you'd had
the day they splayed you spatchcock at the slab,
deboned you, shorn your fleece and plugged
the gone astray hollow that caused your heart to hop.
They port their mark - eight inches and a part
of you embossed, discoloured, sleekly scarred
between your breasts where on earth all who could, could see -
yet you'd not change, would give up your job it be.
A bisulcate is what divides us in our lives
in contrasting ways, and what is undamaged survives
reduction to the scars we scarcely own -
these crooked parts, abraded points that mark the day
the singer rose, and did not undergo away
but burnished us instead, until we shone.
4.
palate cut
shin-bone barked
wrist drip-limned
finger burnt
knuckle gouged
axilla line
eyebrow flecked
kneecap drained
thumb animal tissue scorched
nose-bridge bust
thigh dog-bit
elbow knocked
ankle chipped
wristbone slashed
coccyx jarred
forehead caught
I slumber awake
and find it in
the darker parts
the soppy trace
a suspicion maligned
or misaligned
a outer space treeless out
to suck its last
in agony
and in well-mannered faith
the angles left
abashed, preserved
the animal tissue high regard leaves
in you, the urge
abroad at later -
thin want's afloat.
5.
A thorn-bright hook where you'd crept in
had dragged my gut up done my mouth
& covered you to the fault
I crane you from. A pennant slip,
and yet I hauled you through the parts
where I hungered, shriveled myself
& worn the cosh I frailed you next to -
you ran me off,
you prised the rot out from the gum.
The flower of the demand of you had spread
throughout the heart-hung confidential -
I skinned and worn your traces where
they stained - a bludgeon for a scalpel
and the thump of a hide-bound hammer
were all it took to seal off the tripe
I found in me. The part was torched,
and I stood for a while to warm my hands
on all the din and rage.
When unit burns, the bone object -
a structured part in the ash
is pestled problematic but unmoving scum.
The urn holds prepare until the last -
but now I've shucked you from my own
there's no amount of grinding
that's to bring - what's through with is done,
the wen of you bated to nought,
your pulsing monthlong dry underneath my skin tone.
6.
My mouth's gum-arch and pin knot
has had me gagged;
the rumble transmuted and replaced
or twisted at the palate's line,
hawking goal patch it gutted me
in the places wherever my will was in rabble.
Who's not weakened by a loss
becomes its inheritor - rendered small indefinite amount it yet remains,
reshapes, appends.
Scarred where wounds have been closed,
we do not in concert from paw to mouth
but catch the fancy of on what has been until that time -
they sewn me up, and where on earth they stitched
they made me intact. A clogged mass
I tongued and tongued,
a rough twine that reached to books,
that reached forgotten the extremity & mouth
to quality learning, quality gain,
and what it changed, it vanished the selfsame.
It's this I stagger on recounting
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what I talk about of my yore -
for all the existence I touch and feel,
I'm made of what they learned:
I am ready-made of study.