do barbs taste tears?

needles jab skin.
six for my neck
ten for my hands;
I wait.

my cry tastes
amniotic - salty
living.
electrodes, waves,
none find it.

press the needles
to my soul,
then the keening
could begin.

pierce the twisted babe
sucking salty waters,
I nourish
with tears.
hear its bellow?
its wail of agony?
send the needle through me,
till the poison spouts from
frozen flesh; and let
my soul scream begin.

release me.

til
I am raw
and unafraid.