My Bone

I broke my words free
From tune to tale,
Toppled their scaffolds.

Thus, I must break 
From Christ’s corpse
And Marx’s corpus.

My root buds this sentry 
Petal, whose blossom blooms 
My next beginning.

So I sing my song;
It’s speech, language
Alone, crutchless.

Let my blood-drum
Drop their strums and stories,
Staining this sheet music.

Enchant this breath
I’ve made my bone.