Don't Swallow Me Whole

I can’t remember how long it’s been
since I’ve sung a whole song, painted

a whole picture, written a poem whole
enough to make me love who I am

& all the while, my throat is full
of broken notes		small blue-winged

swallows. They stab at flesh beneath my tongue.
The sun forgives me the next day.

Skin around my neck is raw & coarse.
How could anything…