Bonewanderings by Vikki OwensFour in the mourning
and my hands are
counting,
fingers back and forth
over the
trail of my spine...
I watch you breathe as you
sleep.
My bonewanderings are
silent.
They continue till
daybreak
when
I have to get moving...
My time with you is
restless,
the thoughts
of your fear are
an impedence
to my focused
self-destruction....
This is what I hear you say:
Babydoll, dont you know
that I love you?
Your flesh doesnt matter....
I cant stand
the way you gloss over
yourself,
the way your fingers
touch the bones
that you cant see are there.
You say:
Baby, please dont make
the sunset shorter.
Dont take you away
from me,
I need you so badly,
come back
from this netherworld...
come back to my arms...
Six A.M I have to get
going.
I have to make these
hours count,
I have to get my heart
pumping...
water runs over me, cold,
to burn calories,
my fingers tripping over
the jut of my hips...
09/22/2001 Posted on 09/22/2001 Copyright © 2025 Vikki Owens
Member Comments on this Poem |
Posted by Agnes Eva on 03/29/03 at 05:38 AM a very vivid illustration of bodily self-obsession- i can see those nervous, sleep deprived fingers roaming over the body, judging it... |
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