Head of Ulna
Your finger-bones, cold
on my neck, seem surprised
to find skin around my spine.
Don’t be alarmed, I’m a skeleton
just like you — white and dry
as an empty page. Tear my lips
away and we share a human smile.
Touch my wrist, the wrapping’s
thinner here. Press the notch, feel
hardness pushing back, through muscle
and hair. I am beautiful bones
just like you. I am hips, hidden
from the heat of the stars. I am ribs
shivering like a xylophone. I am
a skull, weak as a crowning child,
waiting to be yanked from the flesh.
Robert Annis is in the MFA program at the University of South Florida. He has studied under Jay Hopler, Katherine Riegel, Jennifer Clarvoe, and James Kimbrell. His work has appeared in Ubernothing Literary Magazine and Thread.