There was a man
Who built my bones
With powder and with spit
So now I cannot stand
There was a woman
Who held my bones
But would not let them grow
Out grow
Her
So she ground up my flesh
And my bones
With spit
And fury
And the powder
Turned to dust
Turned me to dust
Like the lorry
That grinds the glass
Which I follow
Searching for the perfect piece
That shines up high
In the sun
But really it just hurts
The man and the woman left
Many times ago
But I do not forget
What they taught me
I grind up my flesh and my bones
Hold the dust together with sticking tape and time
But really it just hurts
In the bath
As the water washes under the last nerve
I have lots of sticking tape
And time
I keep it on the counter
With the powder
And the food
I cannot swallow
My fingers worry the spots on my stomach
In the night
Like a constellation
Under which I cannot sleep
I wonder if the man and woman remember me
The taste of my flesh
And my bones
The taste which is always there
In the back of my throat
So I cannot swallow
It makes me sad
It makes me sad
And I think
In the beginning
I should have said
I do not want to be
At all.
