Intrusive Thoughts Love Good Bones

every day I let you cut me
I let you make doors
out of my skin.

sometimes you enter quietly
surgical precision
scalpel teeth & nails
no lidocaine.

other days you bring a construction crew
chisel, brick hammer, hand saw
the earth shakes while you work
you wear earmuffs &
hum show tunes.

you crawl through new doorways
you look around and say:
this house is old and rotting
but it has good bones
I suppose it will do.

so I watch you make repair.
my ribs make furniture
ivory chairs & footstools.
my blood makes your pinot noir
red & earthy but never too sour.
my gray matter is your favorite
the way it makes your nightly bath
full of steam & epsom & lavender oil.

sometimes your doors fuse shut
locks fossilized by the passing of time.
but it's okay: you’ll find my ears
my mouth
my nose while I sleep.
you’ll still crawl inside me
still play house
still soak in your tub &
sip perfectly aged wine.

long live
the architecture of aching
the king of parasites
recycler of good bones.

Jasiah Hasan is a 22-year-old poet and writer from Portland, Oregon. She studied poetry at the University of Virginia. In her free time, she loves hiking, cooking, and oil painting.