RENT DAY

The thousand-pound pain of the
choke chain satchel lifts,
lessens, disappearing (almost),
letting me breathe as I have not since a boy.
Years slide off me like sin,
sins slide from me like years
and all I know is this perfect
no-nothingness that is your
holding nothing back of me.
In a very soon time I will come
slamming back to myself. Unwombed,
wounded, I will remember to bleed.
But For this Ever I have no skin,
no eyes to cry, no mouth but yours.

Later, while paying rent,
I remember this.