We twist.
Bones crunch, skin stretches.
I step and you restrain,
Our toe cramps.
Our head is heavy,
Body no longer defined.
You rest inside me,
And you never rest easy.
I tell them time and again:
This is the body I occupy here.
But you are more weight than a body.
This joke has become a mystery.
Misery, missed lead, misled.
For a body can’t climb into a head.
