i can’t scrub this feeling
from my skin
sticks to me
like saran wrap in those
auto-erotic asphyxiation
pics from the coroner’s office
i stretch and stretch
pushing the fatigue out
until my joints separate
one by one
the pockets between bones
pop with gas or separation
anxiety
as if there were a difference
the sky has hit that summer blue
shade too soon for me
and tomorrow the sun will hang
white in the sky
a judgment on all of us
Words and Feathers 