Behold.
Watch as I,
The Contortionist,
God’s creation,
Twist and crack
Directionless limbs
That beseech above.
Joints grasping the ground
To oppose the void
For what else is left?
I will continue – Watch.
How I fold at the waist
And let my hips hook in
Underneath my ribs.
I Pry apart slow
My creaking chest
Like a flower in bloom,
Boney white petals
My heart is a pistil.
Awaiting lost wisps
Of passing love.
My body a cage
And somewhere inside
A voice lost of speech.
But my jaw knocks loose
I bite and I gnash
Until my teeth intertwine.
Like drunkard dovetails
In parallax grind
Unwilled to go on
Past familiar pain
And forever unlatch
My tongue.
My hand.
My heart.

Cover Image
Standing Male Nude with Red Loincloth (1914) by Egon Schiele