bird bones

poem

I was a dancer once, you know.

the absurdity is lost on my lovers,

who have seen me bend

and curve, and twist and spin

the joke is mine alone

and that itself is lonely

the road I took I never chose

(without me, despite me)

my body chose for me

through aisles, down pathways

that bled, through archways

that ached, with every turn

of a head, every stare full of s…