In the cavity of willful destruction we
long for the Sisyphean
grow back stronger
fill the cracks with gold
confession:
as though graphite dipped in sun were not still lead
paperweight tied to feet kissing
the bottom of the sea
we pull up the head attached to the shoulders
that pull up the torso attached to the legs
that stand on two shaking feet
pulley and lever simple machines
strings attached to sinews of tendon between
and back to blade of shoulder
we claim the weight of the world on our shoulders
as if it were ours
spike in heart