Corvus Corax to the Thorax


I woke to find a raven resting in my chest
tail feathers sweeping down shoulders
and cervical spine
as my hand stroked the pinions down
to rock wall vertebrae and scapulae
I buried my head in that down
my eyes made of glass
I see nothing but black waters and shadows,
the lighthouse of my spine
carressed by the cold stone
the floor our couch and throne.
I feel you expand and contract in
as I expand and contract in
asyncronous breaths, black lunged
and unsure.
At least, in the moment,
I am unsure.

Hunched over, scoliosis arch
sitting on the steps
at my feet, you are belly-first
upward arch at forearms against the floor
black waves follow gravity
down your shoulders,
black shirt and underwear comfort
pale posts of legs kicking
like swimming in the dust
I brushed off my shelved subconscious.

Compulsively, my hands were healers
seeking to ease the discomfort in your back
but you drew back
Gaze dropped in shame, your soul closed
“Please, not just yet,”
The moment open-book fractured
and I withdrew. Unsure
this time
of what to do.

Your face pierced the veil
of your waterfall hair and I knew you
like two people passing on the sidewalk
and lock eyes for a moment
then break contact and move on.
You breached the boundaries and moved in here somehow
I am richter scale rattling bones
in the morning
reeling to restitch the sutures
broken by the ether of my mind
once again.
Knowing this is somehow the only way
to reconnect my brain to my heart:
with a fine needle and thread
rather than wiring I can rip out with
gripped fist and pulls.
You could be anyone there
but it was you I saw.
You could have been anyone.
Are you someone?


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