Madwoman
— delicate wale:bones
filigree and fragile
winding in
snails and circles, a
fibonacci spiral of gold
like an ammonite
of eternal continuity and
perfection, an envelope
that dresses the body in
haute couture of its own
anatomy —
— but instead of
its own uniqueness
it is caging its own
anatomy in determining
ideals of confinement —
— madwoman, madwoman
madwoman, they scream
banishing her into an
asylum of glass
coffins, of bell
jars, of caves
like Antigone once
an attic in wonderland
transcending its own
captivity through the
looking glass —
— the page of my body
of my heart, contrasted in
black and in blue
like writing of the x-ray
building roads that lead
to confinement —
— the STEMI
of my hand —
— is caging the ink heart
in my body that is
racing like the
pulse of a madwoman in
the attic, that is writing
with the body —