I hear that the clavicle fairy
is building a castle out of
our necks and shoulders.

This pendulum toandfro is getting old.
hearts hang from
collar marrow
and they strike arthritis dust
out of the surrounding hills
they bleed ink out of greasy sunsets
too many clenched fists
and I always hold my breath.

(I hear that the clavicle fairy
is building towers out of dental floss and fishing line
she's digging moats and filling them with perspiration.)

I hear the clavicle fairy
is building a castle out of
bones and boulders.
Our necks and shoulders.

the way your jawbone writhes
underneath your skin,
like something secret,
something buried.