Day 257

cupping

the body the land
stretched out
an atlas to her fingers
ley lines running
every way which
she can trace
and understand

the signal blocked
here there and there
she feels the knots
under the surface
eyes closed breath
held tight inside
her meditation

the box the cups
the glass the roundness
the vacuum the cavern
the hills the paths
the mountains the peaks
the rivers the cliffs
the bends the chasms

oil and hands
the open orbs slide
along the lines to
lift the pain out
of the depths of
his prostrate body
this theatre of medicine

movement ceased
the six cups of
fable remain static
and suck the poison
from what’s left
of him until he
wakes and heals

but even healing
leaves bruises
and scars on
the land

AGGIE’S ART OF HAPPINESS – CHAPTER 210