i am swollen, oversalted, stretched tight
across knuckles that complain, skin reddened
under the weight and congestion of you.
i am loose words, unfinished sentences, clauses
run rampant in destructive freedom-- why
can't you answer, why aren't there answers?
platelets that drag, sluggish, down red corridors
won't respond till thorough irrigation:
water that sluices through amorphous boundaries,
the walls ombre with the gaining hydration.
only then do the joints move smoothly,
only then do the hands lose that blooded tinge.