hard, like an aeroplane crash.
Weekend-warrior turned to
week-long, I would not last.
So take these broken veins
and bones, scrub 'til they
are bruised. Make-believe that
I drowned frail and stale, that
I did not misuse.
Just bury me in a bathtub
with a teacup of earl grey.
Run the water boiling hot
'til my pores begin to pry away.
The joints will appear,
marrow, will porcelainize.
I'll lend thee my cup of tea
Sip, squall out your last goodbyes.
And when that claw-foot friend
and I, finally conjoin, you may
bask and bathe 'til the end of day,
I will swathe you warm.
I will keep you
so sparkling,
I will keep you
so clean.
