perhaps if I aligned mine just right,
I could love you better.
Your fingertips would appreciate
a line of stars crackling under skin.
I could slip by these storms like a
gymnast fish, swiftly past offers of science
or circus lights. These bones should only
fit against yours in the dark.
and baby, you have met your share of serpents, you say
mythology is so dead it never existed— so turn the page!
My bones are columns of fresh text, tightly bound,
crisply anticipating your weather.
Without pain, I could safely carry dreams;
I could stretch out like summer and rise to you
like the verdurous mountain which for centuries
has practiced to meet the sea.
— Liyana Dizzy, 23
(performed onstage at No Black Tie for Readings July 2010)