Bones

People talk about

the bones

like it matters

I always imagined

steel bolts and solid wood beams

and a heart buried among

the sawdust and spiders

A soul crushed between

dry wall and latex paint

I thought character was about bones

and foundation

and there’s a wall

laying haphazardly

in the back yard

chucked out a window

200lbs of bones

melting away in the rain.

 

I asked about why we add

texture to walls

and my guy tells me

to hide the imperfections-

industry standards

 

it’s the imperfections

that grab me,

the plaster that wasn’t quite even

in my inexperience

and the nail hole that was missed

in the caulking

the slight chips of time,

it’s the scars that make the character

not the bones

 

the bones are what the scars cling to

in a summer storm.

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3 thoughts on “Bones

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