Cracking her fragile knees
Kneecap is
mahogany tree branch,

gladiator sandals worn to the nub
of a toe,

in woe, the breakup smacks
of new poetry, it rubs

the aches raw, the poem
must be written, it is

manifest destiny, it
doesn't work, again,

the kneecap cracks,
bones lap against marrow and blood

like an ocean, hungry touch
flesh, the empty bed drawn

in catacombs, a crypt, small
fishing village beneath her eyes,

kneecap breaks, snarled
bend in the road of her body,

it maps her in bondage and
subterfuge, she says

it will be good for her to
be alone, loneliness is

just the length of one stride
to another, one wound

to another, said the rib
to the girl, a cage, kneecap

cracks; she is fragile,
like a fragmented proclamation

deaf to the ears of any
who tends to utter it.