How the Body Sleeps
i knew to call it suspect the night i awoke to the wind
moseying up my hollows
breath blue on my collarbone
it's curious my body
weeping
welcomed it at her doorstep
just for the night
she said
just for
it isn't the treachery that troubles me
but how does my body sleep
knowing the wind will whisper away her fingers knowing
the wind rising off concrete
rising off clotheslines
rising off cooked meat
i remember when i learned the word altar
the stress on the inclusive
the ending black and impressionable
a echoing a in symmetry that can only be stomached by god
and other things
we worship
it's curious the wind's careful swigs of my skin
of my forearms my larynx the cast of my jawbone
who knew the body so soft
could harden in dreams
as though cast in iron
that flickers
as it dries
i flicker in sleep
the way blood gets brighter in water
as though saying 'this
is where i come from'