My body is a mine
Hidden within are night, snakes, burglars, and a years-old cold case.
Exposed are mornings, wild flowers, the sun, and news good enough to be on the front page.
Visceral organs, methane gas is over the limit somewhere,
always these petty cases.
How to end a case all depends on a kidnapper’s request.
He lives in the village, smokes constantly.
This is an outdated mine, black extends indefinitely.
Brightness had been remodeled several rounds, yet still mottled colors,
I will scream alarms before a collapse, shake a snake’s tongue.
Those people who dig coals from my heart panic and run away.
So water surges in.
Black becomes white.
Exposed are bugs’ singing, moonlight, fox’s mourning, and a years-old cold case.
Hidden within are flames, love, and golden yellow separated by a pile of dirt.
Certainly some people retreat halfway.
Someone throws in a stone.
Ten years later,
An echo is heard.