Oh, home of cracked bones,
crypt of condensed composure.
My time has arrived.

One bone, two bones, three bones, rattle my bones,
shake the box until its cobwebbed truth tumbles out
onto hard-packed dust. Shredded into ivory splinters,
you’ll find the derailed train that hurtles toward you,
only a few feet away now. Before you crash, look
closer. Find the starfish patterns that sway on my
prison’s wall and congratulate them for commendable
perseverance. Scratch the surface of the midnight air.
Breathe the chemicals that rise from your skin. Pray
to the earth, press your lips against the summer’s final
remaining blade of grass and beg release from your
bindings. Remember the last time you swallowed
a watermelon seed, and remember the first time
the winter wind clutched your umbrella, allowing
the cold to seep quietly, smoothly into your bones.

Oh, home of new bones,
crypt of condensed composure.
Your time arrives soon.

“Ossuary” first published with Burningword Literary Journal.

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