The geometry of my skull
flowers in three angles.
Some alien hand
must have drafted the lines:
Too straight and clean
to have been pencilled in by five fingers.
If I open my mouth wide enough,
I can feel a beam of light shine
into the antechamber
where dead kings stuffed with sawdust
slumber on top of beds of gold and linen.
Their servants and concubines,
piled up on top of each other like firewood,
rest at the bottom of my stomach.
Late at night,
I lie on the sand.
I watch the Moon fill its sails
with the breath of cats
while I trace the outlines of birds and ankhs,
carved into the walls of my gums,
with my tongue.
Ashley Naftule is a writer and theater artist from Phoenix, AZ. He's been published in Vice, Ghost City Press, Phoenix New Times, Bandcamp, Occulum, The Hard Times, Ellipsis, Under The Radar, Mojave Heart, Rinky Dink Press, L'Ephemere Review, Four Chambers Press, Amethyst Review, Hypnopomp, and The Outline. He's a resident playwright and Associate Artistic Director at Space55 theatre.