This is how I cut myself open
—dream a dream that I can’t quite make real, then
the wounds open from within and I fall

into my blood that collects in an open clamshell,

fall into moist bone
exposed by the ocean

that washes away the mountains I made,

fall into the shapes of extinct animals
that reside in the calcified rockface stripped bare,

and the night is the undertow that tears my flesh away
as easy as sand from this beach.