some day we'd realize our bones no longer cared to hold our weight, an entire life turning to broth, without a spoon to hold what was left
in an interview
I answered questions
by dislodging tonsil stones
and arranging them
in patterns only I understood
sometimes taking hours
to create an array I thought was
capable of realizing an emotion
and though the trapped foot particles
and dead cells and mucous
were mostly mute
people looked at the stones anyway
and inhaled their stench
when they fell apart
grateful for the forgiveness they provided