go on.
make my thighs the same
begin with neat precision.
scalpel on skin. no blood
i should be asleep,
but the fingers working
& if you open my left thigh
you’ll see the face of my great
the medical students will come to witness
and groan like prophets.
with gritted teeth behind
a mask you’ll seal the prayer taut
hope that it is enough.
hope to god that it is enough.
after you whispered
it was perfect
you smiled, waved
goodbye.
is long & already
my stretcher is rolling
or a similar
length
only water
like how they said i was born.
on my body, they
have memories of other bodies
grandmother, brown & grand.
wicked with knowing.
wield pens & scrape blue crosses
over their notes.
with sutures black and ripe
enough to pick.
i remembered lazarus after i pretended
to wake up.
like the pull and snap
of gloves
but the time is
sterile & the queue
out the room
backwards.