May 19

Bones

Bone Chair 
Traced in Clavicle
In Tibia
Will the sound be dull and hollow when I knock?

Who sits on the Bone chair 
Who waits for her loose children
To come home Quietly
Lacing fingers through the notches in their Spines

Catacombs arranged like clockwork
Like machinery
As if bones are the Derivative
And not the inspiration