my intestines resting in my lap
like thick thread
or my lungs clinging
to my shoulder blades
like lobed wings.
my blood in a wine glass,
my skull as a goblet,
my teeth as jewels,
my uterus as a tobacco pouch.
all of these which are my parts
and so horrible to look at
when on the outside,
naked and heaving.
my heart with fingers in the valves
pulling out vines
or my brain cradled against the breast
like a child,
the inside meeting the outside,
awakening to the sun.
when the inside meets the outside,
it's hard to deny your ribs are
a cage like mine, trapping the songbirds
of our voices.
our exposed larynxes like violin strings
can sing in harmony.
if you peel back my skin
and I flay your flesh, then
we can count the striations in our
muscles like tree rings.
pour yourself out to me
and I will spill myself for you
and together we can paint a room
the same color.