A Particular Kind of Ruin

After the fire, I walk among the ruins, shudder away from the creaking beams, and I think of your body whole and unscarred. Though you were always in pain, an x-ray of your bones tacked onto the refrigerator revealed a clavicle and femur highlighted in blood red, the places you yearned to excise from your body. Alive, you dreamed of a bath that would erase the salted
wounds and bring yourself back into the land of the able, and here I stand, woozy on what’s left of the back porch, punching at my goddamn bones, knowing they refuse to crumble.

Photo Credit: Kenzie