wildwood forest, Every ounce

Every ounce

If I could sell myself

I would,

every ounce of skin and bone

I would.

My hands

my feet

my skull a cup

for milk or soup.

If I could sell every strand of hair

I would cut it off, cut it up

and have it worn as a cape

around slender shoulders

or a bracelet for tender wrists.

If I could sell my eyes

they would reflect a million

curious fingers, a million grey skies

a million miles of flight held

tight beneath the wings of birds.

If I could sell my soul

it would make a lovely curtain to hang

in someones home.

If I could sell myself

bone by bone

I would refuse no one.