“Crying Bones” by David Hanlon


& I’m lying here / & again / this late-night restlessness shakes / my very bones / on my window pane / cold air turns / into condensation / as my pensiveness evolves / into sadness / a stop-start / dulled-down / kind of sadness / a single tear running from each eye / are my bones the ones bawling out? / then shake them from my body / past organs & flesh / for tears must be released / to be what they are / to bring urgently-needed relief / I hear the energetic chatter of my housemates in the living room / the driving buzz of car engines on the street / clattering utensils in my neighbour’s kitchen / yet still / I exhale with considerable force / to witness my own frosty breath / flow out in front of me / just as earlier in the bright morning sunlight / I contemplated my own reflection in a cup of coffee / beneath rising steam / amid dark waters / when / like millions of clinking china cups / my bones first started to rattle / & now / shaken from my body / those same bones gravitate towards / clack up against / my windows / walls / ceiling / door / desperate to escape / & find another’s bones / like yours / to rest beside / shake beside


David Hanlon is from Cardiff, Wales, and currently living in Bristol, England. He has a BA in Film Studies & is training part-time as a counsellor/therapist. You can find his work online at Ink, Sweat & Tears, Fourth & Sycamore, Eunoia Review, Amaryllis, One Sentence Poems,  Déraciné Magazine, OCCULUM, & Calamus Journal, among others. On Twitter he’s @DavidHanlon13

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