Bare Bones

This morning the top of my skull popped off
I noticed it dangling askew
The hook on the left had unfastened itself
With the right hardly holding for two

I ran my hands over the misaligned seam
And the gaping space left by the split
The smooth and the cool and the emptiness
The prominences and the pits

With great care I began placing pieces
And gently I reshaped the hooks
But the bare bones they brought me to beauty
This death cannot be overlooked

-a.r.

Woman Holding Skull 1908

~ by April on March 27, 2015.

Posted in Body, Death, Humanity, Identity, Loss, Meditation, Poetry, Whimsy
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4 Responses to “Bare Bones”

  1. Reblogged this on hocuspocus13 and commented:
    jinxx ♠ xoxo

    hocuspocus13's avatar hocuspocus13 said this on March 27, 2015 at 2:53 pm | Reply

  2. Edgar Allen Poe meets Emily Dickinson

    m lewis redford's avatar m lewis redford said this on March 28, 2015 at 6:42 am | Reply

    • Perhaps the single best compliment I have ever received. To say thank you would be too presumptuous, but I am moved by the comparison.

      April's avatar April said this on March 28, 2015 at 12:04 pm | Reply

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