Page 25 - WDickinson_Blackwell_Submission

P.S. stands for Postmortem Silence

The calamity of
buzzards circling around my head,
funneling toward a center,
phone buzzing from another room,
tapping fingers against an armrest,
the rapping knuckles on the door,
the tap of soles on the threshold.

did you know that first, the internal organs decompose.
my innards, the personal effects of
of the heart
deteriorate.
imagine the skeletonization of intimacies.

note evidence of
abuse to the bones, remodeling of the body.
or perhaps something more divisive:
a slight beveling around the exit wound,
like the slight beveling around the edges of a coin.

the worry that you are on the other line,
worming into my stomach,
that visceral fear.
who were you on the phone with?
nobody.
no body.
just a collection of organs, systematically placed.
me, strategically placed too close to lips. the phone,
systemically dooming all attempts
at communication.
what does yes and okay and fine mean.
what does no mean.

chronic illness could be indicative
of systemic issue. faulty wiring, bad connection.
you plague me bad static.
morbidity, or an indication
of care?

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