Son of a Rib

I can no longer cry
Because I’m already dead
And the dead are dry
But jab my side
And my still-moist ribs
Displaced
Will weep water and blood
A veritable flood
Then you’ll recognize
I’m neither God nor Man
Misplaced
Left dangling
Forsaken
In the spoiling heat
My heart may break
But not a bone of mine
Will be broken

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