The evacuation of my bones 
was almost an apology--

it wasn't a boy who taught me
nothing that matters that has a mouth--
we kiss the clam shells 
of sesame bun lockets--
you taught me love was something
we perform with our mouths
and the bones blooming in
African violet bruises
in our throats-- 
love like an orchid is sick
and only made of sleeping beauty--
only she never woke up--
just laid to be flipped over
and over like a blushing pancake--
we like our girls golden dough--
chew macaroni and cheese
like some sort of dying prayer
to keep my bones from leaving 
again in shame--
-- read the
box mix over my shoulder--
it's a boy's job to teach 
teeth what they belong
in a mouth for-- 
my bones didn't run away from
a boy-- they ran away so i could
be everything you made me out to be--
this marconi effigy--
they ran away in an attempt to apologize
for cutting my hair so short again--
they ran away 
because bones are too heavy 
and remember too much-- 
he punched me into a billow 
breath of silk scarf-- 
grab me in handfuls of 
ass through my skirt--
spaghetti hair to be twirled 
on a fork-- 
the good barefoot-- learn 
a mouth of Alfredo-- 
no 
it wasn't a boy who taught me
about my mouth and gnawing 
on a moon from the altar
of a windowsill sill--
the passing host in the sky
always turns black eventually
the the evacuation of my bones
back into the soil
God made me an acolyte so 
i wouldn't need a church to ring
a bell-- i'm using it to call
back the husks of a femur--
my knuckles scared of gripping--
my elbows smacked 
from the round table--
ribs shaven with the apple peeler--
i've got a burlap sack 
and i go out at night
when the moon isn't watching
from the inside of my mouth--
i go out when he's not cooking
so i can lure them back under my
skin-- you see we want
deep down to be heavy-- not heavy
like hair but heavy like
pancakes-- like macaroni--
but not to share-- i eat from
my own cereal bowl by a nightlight--
this food wasn't ever for you--
this skin wasn't here just to be soft--
it was here to make a canvas--
i painted with the apple peeler
so much i forget what it
was like to fill a mouth with
a word-- a single word--
he took away every single
word to replace with a bare foot
and a box mix-- 
no wonder my bones needed to go home--
use themselves as seeds for something
more worth while than me--
no i'll get them back-- 
i'm ringing the bell
in a pot and a pan--
a soup spoon on a cereal bowl--
i only thought i would be an orchid
until i realized i'm not lonely
without you--
i've started eating words 
from cereal boxes-- verse
written in macaroni elbows--
i took your Alfredo for a 
apology-- no these bones
with
come back with a shovel and 
new moon held higher than 
the host i have lived off of
for so many nights--
don't eat a moon all at once or they'll
know you were hungry--
measure yourself and the bones
will come back again--
i will unlearn what boys
taught me about a mouth--
we're using the bones for broth
this time only they won't
be my bones--
i'll make you into the cough
of an African violet
so you know what it's
like to be my mother--
you should be scared--
it took me six years--
but i learned how to
keep calling my bones back
when they run away--
this is a half-apology
for every time you
filled my mouth with food
into of words.