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