"Spare Parts" by Kathleen Pastrana

Morning comes

and gently we unravel—

limbs knotted

by close familiarity

break free and fall

straight into the sea

of sheets we stained

scarlet with secrets,

rippling in folds to reveal

our bare bones shivering,

resembling derelict dwellings

left too long in the storm.

Skin and spirit

separate once more

and as soon as darkness falls,

I must become

the skeleton you hang

in your closet.