Vulnerability 

Marley Bost

 

I hear the crunch of bone and I hear  

The tearing of flesh 

Someone’s chest 

Has been cracked open, their insides put on vivid display 

 

I feel a thought slinking 

To the front of my brain 

“look down” 

And I do, my chest is raw and open 

But it is not the steaming blood 

Nor the ragged flesh 

That comes as a surprise 

 

I see the familiar blackness

A dark viscous sludge that once slathered my lungs 

and settled among 

thumping masses of muscle 

 

Now, no longer familiar, it pulses and shifts 

And from it a dozen insects unfurl delicate wings the color of raw gemstones 

I feel them crawl up my ribs and balance themselves on the carnage of my open chest 

I feel their wings begin to flutter 

shedding the blackness