Cartilage, Cartilage

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Careful like a candle I always once again harden
back into myself and am re-shaped, maybe, but alive.
I have walked through fires and swung kitchen knives
like a specialist in heat. I have slept through your
natural disasters and band practices only to dream
of growing up to be a designer of lackluster bridges.
Bring me blindfolded to the candy store
and make me tongue the walls. Put taffy in my hands,
whisper cartilage, cartilage. The consistency
of matter is only a matter of packaging,
the dense and swarm of flesh, musculature.
I am bloat and barrel. I am a series of mouths
that do not need watering. This bark, this patina,
is the only anchor I drag across the dirt.