Spring '07 TOC
When they molded you A new arm Leg Dimpled chin Was there any left for me Stored away in refrigerated plastic Awaiting the next repair?
They already asked! My mother, her mother, My adopted mother is dead. I have no samples to give.
What of the scraps from Forming your eyes The shavings from Your smile?
Go see if there’s any extra Some not yet mixed Reserved for the holy of holies.
A woman held my hand Assuring me that all would be alright
She never told me I would lose you in chunks of liver Feel you when you’d gone Sanctuaries would dissipate in my dreams
Conventional ovens would never revive you...
She never told me My lungs weren’t strong enough to Scream you back
Please, go and ask if there’s extra Beg a portion for me.
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