Imperfect flesh and bones

are a cage for the bile

and putrid smell

of a rotting self image

that is

    crooked

               and

                        uneven

Looking down to see

mountains and craters,

pale dry sand,

cracks, holes, and speed bumps.

Sunken buried treasure

that has been robbed of its gold,

and a prairie that meets the horizon

before toes are visible.

A gap that doesn’t exist

adorned with deep fault lines

from where the land was supposed to split,

But stretched instead.