Fractured Planes: An Empty Defense Mechanism

It’s the spaces between vertebrae that allow lizards to drop their tail

I was watching this thing you just said hanging in the air between us:¹

Papa’s in the sky? Can we drive to him?

My skin and muscles, blood and nerves, separate—

an amputation that affects my sense of balance

like one-way texts and much too much listening on your side

The reproductive process stops and

bundles of muscle fold over exposed bone

They say the end will dry into a cap

My skin grows over a silence slit long

ways sunflower petals roll over the crest

ways I bump into another form of myself:

dried pistils and stamens, yellow curves, dotted lines—

a flower stretched over a hundred yards²

When it grows back, the tail’s not the same length or color

and can’t be dropped again until you nod and tell me, Papa’s at home.

He’s just home now.