I am bile in her belly,

Keep rumbling, stay hungry,

So I don’t eat her alive,

Her saline hands pound my baby skin,

Clush clonk, chop,

Because a good parent disciplines 

 

Say something outloud,

Before your head flies away,

Fantasies of a plane I pray for,

I swallow my spit to speak, 

But my chapped throat chokes, 

On the uncertainty of tomorrow 

 

A phantom gale whispers in my left 

Stuffs my mind, hollows my stomach 

Another hums lullabies to dry the tears, to calm the sea

In my right, I hear Astropo calling me

 

Her voice dehydrated as my shriveled body

Floods into the vacant creaks of my soul

Frozen fingers carry my life in front of her 

Pinched in her hands like a damp cloth 

 

I see her eyebrows raise with anticipation 

As she clutches her rust laced scissors,

Eternally I will lie, in the belly of the brine 

One, two, three,

I don’t have time to think then-

SLICE

 

But I am still here 

Yarn turns to steel 

Frayed, but unbroken 

I fought the battle, I won, victorious 

Her breath in my lungs, I’ve exhaled 

Meanwhile the roaring engine of a jet plane 

Begins to sing me a new song