the fear rolls over my skin in yellows purples and reds
along my spine blushes pink,
raised vertebrae ache only when I press into the floor or
let my fingers wander there,
reassuring my left ribs
speckled black inside a yellow decay
the tattoo-like dots burst from a violet circle the size of my thumb
and it looks as if I've painted a sun in swollen knots
but my eyes cannot stray from my hip bones for long,
the left protrudes more than it has in months and
the right lumps and bulges against my underwear
blood strains against that last bar of skin
bubbling purple
tasting the outside and the kiss of untouched hairs
and somehow in writing this fear, I begin to find the words
