bursting Marrow

Canto, canto
it puts the tempo
lighter in the step.
steel strums
on burnt frets
make calloused
fingers feel...
you tickle the bones beneath
pretty porceline...
what do they say
when you put your ear to
my breast....?
is that rhythm drums
or bursting marrow?
I'll tell you
since you cannot know me
mortar has sealed you out
like tree sap seals out ants
from honey hives.
you are not welcome too far in...
Perhaps in the backdrop
is some faint march
pounding rhythms of unwon wars..
but that sound
that sound beneath my bones is
bursting marrow...
bursting... not blood
but feathers
those,
those feathers
have kept bones from shattering
into ivory shards
under the pressure of miles
and miles
and miles
of black briney seas
and those
those downy peices
have kept me
whole and
kept me sane
dispite the bludgings
dispite the pain...
and you,
and you
with your curious ears
can hear inside that something
strums louder
when you rest your face against me?
is it the sound of drums waged
against unwinable wars
or is it bones
bursting marrow and feathers?
do you haunt me?
or do you free me?
do you, with your curious fingers
damn me or release me?
Place your head against my ribs
again, touch the bones beneath
that pretty porceline
and tell me what you hear...
you hear nothing
you hear absense
you hear calm
your hear breathing