Backbone Lamp

It stands in the corner and holds up the light,

A ladder of vertebrae, blacker than night.

Ribs curve like questions, the pelvis holds still —

A body of shadow that does what you will.

No flesh and no face, just the shape that remains

When the soft parts have gone and the hard part sustains.

Switch it on gently and watch how the glow

Climbs up through the bones like a secret it knows.

This is a lamp for the rooms that keep score,

For the hours that deepen and ask for still more.

A quiet memento that also gives light —

The Backbone that watches and burns through the night.