Bewound

Nails scrawling words in my flesh Their touch is so soft that it burns Stretched backwards where it's sewn As hushed as the dancer's turn Dressspun and thrown to the stars Their lines organizing my fears They tie tightly round my neck Embedded from lungs to the ears Arrows find points where to land Before they are pulled in reverse The sand which fills up their bed Is glass from the last universe This body is painted and marked With holes from which poured red tears And inks from the blackness of ash Dissolve in the depths of the pier Breathing the air which surrounds A tree can't mirror its roots A knot around it must be tied But how will it be wound Hails falling purge sins lie fresh Bear such a low loss that returns