rib scar
words are strands
of hair uncoiled
with your hands
from a ponytail
snug against the
nap of the neck
where skin stipples
at touch –

taunt,
taunt,
dance,
dance,

transmute tedium,
the tepid outline
inclining from
bone to scar,
a strange
ribbon at the rib,

remarkable at the thought –

a youthful accident, or something more,

a refutable le constellation where the edge of the bed sheet rises like a moon.