skeletons and candlelight

Skeletons and Candlelight

i told him the skeleton of the story

just the shape of it:

the meeting the injury the slow healing

of the hip and the thigh bones.

I left out

all those stories of tendons and flesh and the sweet softness of the skin.

In a candle-lit pub on a monday night,

skeletons were enough.

but then he

leaned forward, eyes a-fire and said,

my dear

what the hell

were you thinking?

where have you been what were you doing?

Throat closed tight. I would not answer him.

no need to shed so much blood.

Gripping my hands together i couldn't really feel their bones

just the muscles and soft flesh.

i keep my newfound silent boundaries,

but story-teller me wonders - how to explain?

how the tendons had held the break

how the walk may have been limping but it was still a walk

how only now i begin to realise

how far I came with those broken bones

how slowly did i travel? I still don't know.

But his face was alive.

(life is so much more than skeletons - eyes and mouth and ears and nose; i get so captured by these senses, and your taste still lingers on my tongue.)

smiling into my quiet he said,

you have so much living to do

you don't even know how much living you have before you

Maybe. My skeleton is still not set straight.

bones not yet perfect allignment

tendons

don't know the proper timing of flex and easing,

muscles

weak - they complain at this exertion.

skin -

has it always been so soft? I feel everything.

i didn't tell him the full story.

of how the flesh was so beautiful;

the heart beat, so strong.

but who can i be without the skeleton.

Now, breaking bones to set them right again;

structural change takes honest strength and such discipline

the tendons can re-shape themselves

the neurons learn a different pathway

the breath find a different rhythm in the lungs held by the ribs -

still - i won't ever forget

the sweetness

of your flesh

and the gentleness of your breath.

still - now

i must attend

to the discipline

of setting bones

for a strong skeleton.

In the Candlight

his eyes laughed.

he seemed to See into the skeleton

You have come far

On such broken bones

Now with the mending

Where will you go?

Such conversation

On a Monday candle lit night

Is good medicine

For a healing skeleton