Ribs Under Silica Skin Poem by Alexandre Nodopaka
Ribs Under Silica Skin
Look here, it’s not that
one wouldn’t care
to metaphysically kiss
baby chick spare ribs.
Answering
another poet’s dilemma
as to why kisses
are in a sac of bones
it is for them to rattle
past their connections
by duplicating
rhythmic heart beats.
The rust that separates
the heart from the bone
is but the dust
of dried blood
lubricating the genesis
of virgin chaffing
and soulful
spiritual copulation.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/23/2024 11:55:07 PM # 1.0.0.1119
