Taut

Heat quake-stomps up
and down the stair
case running from
ears to heart.

(narrow breath draws
from deep, hip-hooked lungs)

Heavy stutters the eyes,
bark-scrapes the slick
skin over rioting edges.

(steps burn tight the cyclic track,
cycle back with pulse)

These threads are a wing-
freeze tangle, the brain’s
a wall, a wilt, a week’s
repeat of wringing.

Seams are biting the bare
break this skeleton’s netted in.