BY Robert Alan Wendeborn

nothing burns like a cavity: a hole pouring out the beginning and ending of life. it starts with a drill, a knife, or a pair of lips for the carving out, the carving into.
there is no liquid to deliver the oxygen. there is no destination for delivery in a cavity.
delivery lines begin with the sun. the big yellow one is the sun.
the world has a map. bodies are maps. lay my skin out for skin directions. lay my skin out for a tan.


Robert Alan Wendeborn is an editor for Puerto del Sol, an administrative-logistical slave for Apostrophe Books, and the editor of ep magazine, a short magazine with long pieces. Robert's writing can be found in PANK, killauthor, M Review, twitter.com/rawbbie, and forthcoming from owl eye review and Uncanny Valley