(no subject)

[claire_writes]

i have always thought
of life
as a big present-
in a tall box
with elastic walls
and a constantly curling
red bow
at the mercy of
sharp flying
scissor wings
that needs
unwrapping.

each day
is a volatile
step closer
to discovering
the mean, luminescent
mystery gift
beneath the
delicate geometry
and mummy paper

at the bottom
of the blinding
rabbit hole
every age rips away
another layer
the muscles joke
and spasm
through the
eye shadow tears
and crazed nibbles
of my
cockeyed fingernails
smitten with the
scent of greed
and
hankering
for more peanut butter
and life
rib cage birthdays.