Come Out Come Out here Ever You Are--a prose poem

Like the click or a clack of a train changing tracks. My bones, you’re in my bones. They pop and they creak in the morning, the crack and they gravel all day. You’re churning rocks like butter in my joins. You, who threw me to one side when my knee gave out, sipping my marrow like cider from my femur straw. And I took vitamins and drank milk. I rode bike and ate well: I knew I would forget you and your teeth and your skin, under my skin between my fleshes and I buried you down into my bones—come out come out! Eeyaki! Olli olli oxen free. So, you’re free. Now please let me go on my way.