What if my tumors don’t like me?
What if they come up for air?
Dolphins are made of fire,
so they spend forever in water
trying to put themselves out.
I am made of death,
so here I am in life
trying to put myself out.
What would my body look like?—
ripples along the skin,
like baby hands that want
to reach through a rainbow parachute.
On the other side of the parachute
is a big blue ball.
It’s too big for babies to hold,
but the game is
they get to blame the parachute.
The hands are hard
to hold.
Small, slippery, I wonder
if they even know
that things of blood like us
use devices like these to love.
Leave a Reply