Sticks and Bones
In the end, intertwined, ball and socket, fitting. Double-jointed and anointed in the thin shroud of their skin. Scars and old wounds are healed over – salved and resolved under protective cover of love. Joined at hip and shoulder, still connected even when all else is stripped down to bare bones still warm, in love’s glow, as sunrise shines on tendons, and the knobby spine and ribs form brittle branches on the tree of life. Betsy Mars This poem was written in response to the sex and art surprise ekphrastic Valentine's Day challenge. Betsy Mars is a Connecticut-born, mostly California-raised poet, educator, mother, and animal lover. She holds a BA and an MA from USC which she has put to no obvious use. Her work has recently appeared in Verse Virtual, Praxis, and Anti-Heroin Chic, among others.
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The Ekphrastic Review
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September 2023
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