St. Angelica

These eyes slowly lift and write my morning
off as nothing better than the dirt under
one's fingernails
But then suddenly I realize just how far
from home this corpulent body is resting
and its stimulating

My fingers snap and crack
My chest sits staring at the
edge of ripping open
these bedsheets become shackles
these lovers become executioners

These muscles barely quake under enormous
pressure forged miles from everything i've
ever known
But then suddenly I forget myself and
make ends meet prescribing for myself
the harshest of medicines

My eyes blanket themselves
My toes fold back like an olympic
class gymnast
these bedsheets become shackles
these lovers become executioners
This corpulent body...
Is resting so far from home