Tilt back my head, begin at my chin
push your thumbnail firm
beneath my jaw, scoring
a sure line down my center—
my halves open like magical doors
swung wide before the adventurer.
Step through gleaming darkness
beneath my ribcage’s arch, push
your way through a forest
of viscera, beneath the heart
preoccupied with beating
until you come to my spine
at last. And if you pluck
the white vertebrae
gently with your fingertip
the heart will pause
amazed at your daring
hand, stop its constant
chatter, and outside
I will bloom in a red silence.
