Whalebones
Whalebones sing.
To some they summon a world
soft tones, soft looks,
dances of love words.
Bones tinkle together
like kissing chimes
strings of crystals
wineglass stems
arranged flowers.
They are magic wands of a fairyland,
gilt in the faded shades of picture books.
But those bones displace mine,
I feel my body crushed.
My own ribs bend inward,
shudder, split, splinter,
pierce my lungs
I can’t breathe, I say.
I can’t breathe.
I can’t breathe.
I can’t move. I can’t run.
I can’t scream. I can’t sing.
Someone must help me.
The bone merchant does.
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