Disassembly

Upon your held-out hand
my faces turn in endless bone.

My arms are in gardens.
I could walk through

the dreamcatcher of your spine
to meet myself in attics.

You keep the most cherished
parts in boxes--buried in the marrow.



"Upon your held-out hand" taken from Dylan Thomas's poem "Upon Your Held-out Hand" published in his collection of poems titled The Poems of Dylan Thomas (1971) from New Directions Books.