it must hurt more to watch
than to heal, so please, stop looking at me
this isn’t yours, it’s a tender
swollen thing around
sliding bones that have the nerve
to march up between my shoulders
to lever my head
against the clouds so that only asgard can hear me scream
there must be a jormungandr
beneath my hips, living there within the milky joint fluid
between my leg bones, its fins engulfed by its own jaw
a deconsecrated thing, a thing eating itself beneath
my ribs, it won’t answer to my name, what name will
right the wrong and snag its mouth away from where it suckles darkness
i don’t want you to watch
please, it’s easier to look away than linger
i am caught in endless transformation
