Blood

bones are the hardest part of us
but have you ever scratched one?

when the skin of a bone fails
marrow comes forward to knit
reclaiming what the bone struggled to hold

blood’s purpose –
each starting place a wound
each ending a geography re-made

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I guess spring comes for all of us
there’s no judgement in the thaw

revealing things
long buried in the cold
and lack of movement

like a child frozen
by the sound of their foster parents stirring

as though the air was made of broken glass

waiting for the smallest twitch

but we aren’t made for stillness
and the blood must do its work

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it’s in the blood we feel most unsure
because it runs wildly outward

like birds fleeing a forest fire

we can’t control how much will be lost to us
don’t know what parts will dry
which ones will stay to…