Dry as a Bone
dusted out inside
like the worn out house in the field
abandoned to the air
and its contents

Dry as a bone
dusted with lovely powders
of lilac and lavender
covered up well in accoutrements

Unfull like the good christian
who knows words and phrases,
but is apt to sink lower than the worst sinner
before the eyes of god, unfull

Unfull and bone dry
a christian resting on the curve
inside the wave
before it breaks,
and when it's breaking it's dissipating
before the millions of grains of sand
that stood on their toes before the wave,
just a moment before

Bone dry as paper
after a night of hard drinking
on your fingers,
scratching against your skin, tired, old

Unfull until you break
dry until exposed
to the blood, guts, and holy water inside

The ground is still hard
the edges sharp on buildings,
and each person walking by,
but the well spring flows

Glide, glide inside
where friends swim happily together,
creation and destruction in the world everyday
unbeknownst to you
flittering, sucking, drowning, and flowing, a liver, a heart
not far from where you sit