but these bones were born for the moors
destined for crystal and silicon visions
but these relics sit pretty
enshrined
on the mantelpiece of dreams
femurs wrapped in single threads
of black silken hair
and in the wildlands of America
there were generations
garnering wisdom from the earth
and I have seen elephants
gather around their fallen
to weep
to dance
to bury the dead
clavicles hidden away
in a heathen’s cloak
and on the trail of tears
scars are bled out in the sand
beneath a war-torn sun
that never dares to sleep
but I have seen your brother
and my father
and all the lovers of ages past
who now reside in realms beyond
the grasp of those still bound to flesh
but even ghosts have living souls
and each of them smiles wide for you
because it’s your Birthday
so it’s only natural to cry
before entering the party
to blow out the candles
in grand fashion
rib cage holding white doves
freedom tattooed on their wings
and novels extracted
from the marrow