FROM, ELIAS

I’ve gained weight recently,



as much as Doctor Moore and I act blind

to my vessel: I’ve been blown like a glass balloon exposing 

the tulips and roots

and nettles inside. She ignores permission

to yank that lattice, drop the braids of my brainstem

into my boiling stomach.



But if I shrivel now it’s clear

that I didn’t just exhale.

To collapse this vase diorama



I must’ve shattered.