Bone Shelter

Night brings a dream.
A house made of women’s bodies.
Knees and elbows, spines, and femurs
frame corners, steps, doors and windows.
I step though a gate of arms,
start climbing ups steps made of women’s backs
like planks they straddle skulls staggering
up a hillside. Great holes stare
out from where eyes once wept.
Clenched teeth yet hold back the screams.
Fingers dangle from eaves of feet.
Waking, I find myself curled like an embryo
hugging my pillow.

^{(Originally published in the Nemadji Review)}