Thursday, March 11, 2010

Running Stitch

"I cannot remember the last time I gave some-
                my weight." She says.

Because the body betrays us in its fragile
                the kneecap pushed so

slightly out of place, the uncomfortable
                almost elegant.

Your dancer limbs locked the wheel-
                                chair wheels
                with a grace we only dreamt

about. Sewn strands and tendons
                                tend to
                atrophy. They can only be

cut, stretched, and re-stitched–anatomical seam-
                "I am a canvas now."

The long wait in waiting
                transitioned us to mourning

the loss of your leg. No,
                                not loss–
                it is still there, but caged.

1 comment:

S.L. Corsua said...

That ending rendered me speechless for minutes. I had to reboot my mind to be coherent again.

Man, you are something else. ;)