|
Am I a Man of Bone or Flesh?
I am more
than stick
or bone
an empty
coat rack
for no one's
home.
Can you still
feel my supple flesh,
like a fruit's
skin blushing
with ripeness?
And yes
I know
where I
stand
and the bone
lays periously close
to the flesh
of my hand--
Still I am more
than brittle bone,
the cold
unfeeling face
of glacial stone.
|