Spin to Splinters

That moment when the spiral takes over,
when you lose your spot and center,
your body turns to wet clay on a wheel,
warping under the wrong hands. Every
time you prepare, spine one straight line,
years of pounding education in each inch
of your central column, some element
of control is lost, like a Catholic tithe.
A stray bobby pin, an errant note, his
current wife, any little thing could slice
your spin to splinters.