in a scourge she saw blue pinpricks around my scalp. she bent my belly through the wormhole, balancing sprigs of evergreen between my kneecaps, baggy under fleece. she dripped antiseptic saliva into my navel and pulled muscle from my ribs to lick them clean. silken and masked, the venter rotted first.
I saw blood and confetti toenails and bedsheets the shade of claret. she buried what was left beneath us in the dirt and wrapped my unsuspecting body in a chrysalis a tourniquet she cautioned children like me that my fingers could twist into pretzels splayed caterpillars or gaping plaster. she told me not to be too full and I delivered on a bed of lined furs and leaves. the waxwings were hidden in honeycomb holes,
frozen by the hum of an unannounced storm. I drank sap from the sides of pine cones around me and felt palpitations in my remains.