sleeping beauty forgotten (edited)

 

two weeks asleep and the skin
has begun to part on leg-backs like
little toothless mouths leaking
onto satin sheets.

three months asleep and now made of mouths:
a chorus of gummy oozing things sucking
at 
the sheets. some start to grin,
flapping 
open like gills gasping.

six months asleep and thigh muscles begin
to dissolve like sugar, hot ’n sticky
mattress stains. bits of tendon settle
into fabric folds, an ulna lays
in pooling liquid like a popsicle stick.

two years ‘neath gossamer garments,
dress dried, draped barren over bones.
still a shadow of the body: dark like syrup.

Advertisements

Rewrite:

she rotates the bag of popcorn so its yawning mouth
is faced away from her own. two popped kernels tumble
onto the table, she pushes them back into the bag
without looking.

the knuckles of her fingers are the widest part
her knees like softballs dropped into socks,
forearms shaped like the bones they hold.

at the end of the night it takes her two tries
to get her backpack up to shoulder height.
when her torso crumbles like sandstone
on the first attempt, the patches of barren scalp
are visible – her hair has begun to fall out,
each strand jumping like the crew
of a burning ship.