ouroboros and
my mother who takes off her bra
on the slumped polka dot sofa 
in the living room

and i ask you--
how can i get you
to unfurl? 
what do you
take off first when you 
enter a door way that holds
you like the sofa in
your living room back at home?
i'm talking about the place
where you came from-- 
the sofa
whose springs you tortured
like a trampoline--
my mother comes home and
takes out adam's
rib once again--
lays her bra
on the coffee table-- 
looks
up at the ceiling to inhale
the smell of cinnamon-citrus
perspiration in our walls--
the living room steeps like a 
bag of my brother's earl grey
tea-- he takes of his boots--
systematic-- one lace at a time--
uncoiled bodies of the snakes--
slither over each other--
ouroboros-- the snake
who eat's his shoe strings--
line-up at attention by the
entrance to his room at 
is also a bunker--
whose bedroom isn't a bunker?
only i'm not going to war
with the Prussians i'm going
to war with a windowsill--
i taught my body poetry 
from the tug of a pony-tail holder--
hair laying on my back like
a shawl--
i cut off my hair so there
was one less part of myself that
i would have to learn
to let go of when i came home--
my home is now a doorway 
and it no longer smells
faintly of citrus and cinnamon--
there's no ribs left for
adam to come and collect and
so the proverb goes
that my father is
the one who bites his own tail
in the form of his shoe laces
--doesn't know how to take off
his feet when he finds himself 
in a doorway--
my father eats stew from 
the kitchen counter 
standing in his constant vigil--
he's using his
ribs to open up another door
frame
crack under the pressure of
the foot steps down the staircase--
no this is not my doorway
and i never asked for your ribs--
take yourself apart with
me-- unbutton me like the turn
of a doorknob--
come in
come in--
let's eat out tails--