The scent wafting
over the pain isn’t
herbs twice boiled

It’s dancing spirit
trying to swallow
it down: truth.

And pain says hello
to my mostly
false whites

To the one who
wakes up with me
crying in pain

Hello hello it says
handing us bags –
suitcases

It plans to stay
for the long
long while

known as
a lifetime
and

I have been nursing
this idea to health:
The wise ones begged

“Oh for a physical pain
that would shout louder
than the pain in our hearts.”

Look no more.

dirt under my nails
dirt in my nostrils
poison in my lungs

Doors to freedom
laughable.
Sharp pains

unavoidable.