Leaning over the counter
With her light-skinned hands holding her face
From colliding with the cold metal,
She stares blankly at the white walls
Splattered with drippings from the ham,
And the tuna shavings that never made it into the bowl.

She stares blankly
While the heavy purple circles around her eyes
Weigh deeper into her ****** structure,
Like dark fences around the gateway to her soul.
She doesn’t blink

For when she closes her eyes
She can’t help but daydream-
Daddy singing Amber Jean to her
Before he gets wrapped up
And stuffed away in a tight box-
Her boyfriend holding her close
As the ******* is lifted to his nostrils
Before his fists,
Like surprise kisses,
Imprint their love upon the back of her skull-

The doctor’s hands
As he opens the garbage can and dumps the ovaries
Containing the cancer that caused her to believe she’s pregnant –
Something that she can dream of no more.

Tilting her head,
She breathes out for a long time,
Her eyes fixed in place,
And blinks.