this
is the recurring nightmare:
row
upon
row
of white-tented
death,
gathering
fragments of
bone;
gloved hands straddling
dimensions
(living and the
dead,
and perhaps
more
symbolic than she ever thought)
each
one revives in
the
ghostly scans
etched
in blue-
white
dying
to tell her
their
stories:
this
fracture, this
defect,felloffmybike/
cerebral
palsy made me
this
way.
come
upon
another
artifact: this one
dons
garishly
striped
socks
and
sits with a wry
smile
on his
scarred
bloody
face:
(hello,
Bones)
waking
only banishes
dreams
as
far
as
daylight
stretches.