The Space Between My Vertebrae

My heart peeks through the crevices between my bones.

In this space between my vertebrae I've found where it belongs.

Who does the midnight bell toll for, I know it is not for me.

And I watch her ring from my window, to and fro and fro to thee.

And I kiss her in my mind,

fed up with the incessant cestrum night.

And I wonder if she would call for me,

If I climbed up the bell tower and wrung it free.

And as it calls it shakes my bones,

palpitating upon the glass church domes.

Glass Shoes

Your glass shoes reflect the light,

and they won't hold your body all through the night.

A nighttime's not ending any time soon,

they click and clack and call for the moon.

As you dance the shards push back your skin,

searching for the bones that hold you within.

You swish and glide and dive so steep,

but I still won't let you go to sleep.

The Snail

The vagrant dreams of going home.

He wants a place to call his own.

"A place where I can stay, where I belong."

You can always come back here,

but you know you can't stay forever.

They always told you you'd have to leave,

But you never knew what those words would sever.

"It is not easy to accept these transient times,

where I don't own anything inside my life."

A vagrant of privilege suddenly realizes,

that nothing was ever his, lies of gifts and prizes.

The vagrant's shell is a lease,

and he owns no agency over his insides.

Once you settle in your home, at last,

arrives the moment in which you're due to part.

From all I've been given I own nothing,

nothing except maybe the skin on my back.

Something.