Bones below the skin above
extending from the front to back
where I start and where I end
traced by the veneer embraced
cadaver covered yet still whole
hidden by the robe that’s worn
revealing what the world will see
while underneath support persists.
The nearest is known to me
dearest in the silent times
bridge from dawn until the dusk
I’d collapse without their help
invisible to the bystanders
thankful in my silent praise
though camouflaged is covert
I’d expire without their aid.
I’m propped by what’s beneath
persisting while the globe revolves
by the structure fast inferred
by a surface full exposed
if they knew how much I require
the in between close at hand
my secret would be no more
and still I’d need the bones below.
2017, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20170112.