my body is a bag of marbles, shifting in your fingers as you toy with my shapes and inspect the swirls of my intestines.
my body is a bag of stones to be cast in the ocean with a splash and a sprinkle of stinging water.
my body is a bag with a fish, wide-eyed and frightened, lurking inside.
my body is a bag of bodies, diced and muddled so the coroner needs a moment to count the arms and legs wrapped in each other.
my body is a bag of rubbish to be tossed into a dump truck and to be split down the side, putrid cocktails beading on my skin and dripping onto the other bags crowded around me.
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