A poem
Three bones to hear
the living speak,
hammer, anvil, stirrup.
Two eyes that mirror-like
reflect the image,
iris, lens, and retina.
One heart twitching
a second from death,
blood, vein, and artery.
Goblets of clotting blood
to feed the knotted meat,
skin, sinew, and muscle.
A brain that’s cleaved in two
inside the throbbing head,
cell, nerve, and synapse.
And underneath as if on fire
there fanned by fickle winds,
the seed, the egg, and womb.
You, woman who once loved
dissected on a marble slab
pale as pearl by moonlight.
An autopsy to find the cause
and put a name to your love’s end.
I came to you in the half-light
entering by way of the soft wound,
seed swimming to its place, flowering
and underwater brought to life.
The conjoined self excised.
I know you hurt for the firstborn
and all the blood lost to the sea.
And me, the man to know all this
yet not a word to ease your pain.
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