Change







Thin bones jut out of his ribcage like stems 
Frazzled blood vessels cracking across his skin like petals
Body quaking, soul shaking 
Earthquakes rattling his bones 
Upheaving the garden bed 
As his clothes shred in the wind 
Tornadoes grinding through his stomach 
Abdomen rumbling and thundering 
Rip tides in his eyes, flooding the pits 
Of sunken cheekbones like valleys 
"Change sir, please, could you spare a little change"
Wavering and quivering like a blade of grass in the breeze
The clinking bottle of amber liquid sloshing against the glass
Like a dew drop on a blade of grass
An accessory from the rain, from the tears 
I offer him my wallet in unlocked fingers on an open palm
"Do you want change?" 
"Yes sir"
His lips cracked into a smile estranged 
I tug the bottle out of his gripping fingers
"Or do you want change?" 

-anna sluder

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