First they took off one breast then the other then her ovaries came out then her pituitary gland. Slowly they dismembered her to keep her alive. They started with the things they understood cutting her womanhood away, the most obviously infected part, and then the module whose function they weren't sure of. It is a matter of taking out the fuse so the lights won't go on. She stands on the corner and talks to me, wearing her scars behind the soft sculpture of foam, tells me that living with death is not too bad. It gives life salt, not depending on any other time to make up your tense, and days become what they always should have been, pungent with the present. She leaves me to go to the hospital, moving from biopsy to biopsy as they cut her back to the bone, but the more they minus the more multiples there are. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LITTLE DANCERS by LAURENCE BINYON SUMMER LONGINGS by DENIS FLORENCE MCCARTHY COMPARISON OF LOVE TO A STREAM FALLING FROM THE ALPS by THOMAS WYATT EPIGRAM by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM A CONCLUSORIE HUMNE TO THE SAME WEEK; & FOR MY FRIEND by JOSEPH BEAUMONT THE LAST BALLADE; MASTER FRANCOIS VILLON LOQUITUR by THOMAS BEER A SISTER OF SORROW: 2. WEEPING CROSS by GORDON BOTTOMLEY ON STIRLING; SEEING THE ROYAL PALACE IN RUIN by ROBERT BURNS |