Matthew Romaine, p.8


Your look returns my skeleton,
the brace of all my flesh.
My word traverses the air,
the brace of all my bones.
How will I know it is you here?
Will you say something so I’ll know?

I will sing the lullaby
entitled anatomy.
It will horrify you.
Let it at first, but then stop.
It is just a song I sing
so you’ll know I’m here.