The violence of healing

Turbid blood begins to flitter.
Free it from the narrow
            vessels. Let it scatter
                      like sparrows.
Let them flit, let them twitter,
          shatter
      all the chimeras in whose talons they squeak.


Reach into my mouldering chest,
  run a claw
        down  my ribs,
            rip
          the ribbons of rust from its cage.
Blow the bud
       of my heartbeat to blossom,
         to erupt with the power of rage.


Brush the dust off my hair to glitter.
Bluster it into a gale.
Shred
     the frail cobwebs and eight-legged critters
           lying cocooned in their nests.
Let them protest,
       distressed
     like blind fish trapped in a brail.


Embers smoulder behind dusty crust.
Eyelashes turn into coal
          and disperse.
Thrust
   the fiery spears of comets
        into my pupils and watch
             as my eyeballs combust,
                     no longer immersed
                         in the static.
Let seaweed of fire, erratic,
            fumble with my flaking skin.


I burn
       in a blazing reminder
            of how to be fully awake.