with Angie LaPaglia
Inscribing our epitaphs
underside of each breath
Granular rasps,
sound of sand in our hair
We are beached where deserts kiss
a tide without relent
Where shells crackle, tell
the impermanence of touch
Roll us on for size,
Walk a mile in us.
We have heard our tumbled bones
the sanded tablets of our breath
They hold us to this day affixed
pounding in our chests,
Ribs wrapped around the roar.
#NaPoWriMo 2014 poem number 22
Written with Angie LaPaglia
© Brendan Bonsack & Angie LaPaglia
April 2014