Boating on the canal made me notice summer's return for the first time
and immediately I missed winter. The way my head  tilted forward,
spine protruded. I spat fire and ash, a small dragon;
my skin sagged like a coat on a cold blue hanger.

One morning after I'd spent the night with a boy,
while he showered I saw a skeleton in his wardrobe mirror
so ugly in loose underwear, the darkened hair lank,
skin grey and sunk to bone and it all disappeared
when turned to one side.
How could he share a bed with that? I thought then,
seeing clear how I existed for the reality of others,
as a shell, offensive to the eye, a skull-head.
-
The voices came not long after,
and in clinic bathrooms
a coyote hungry stare,
the silence of September.
For thousands of days I had not felt my body.
In my mouth grew ulcers and teeth died.
,
I really did stare at the sun and started drinking water again,
Slowly started eating again until I managed pasta and pie.
My body now- I think I'm touching my arm but instead feel thigh.
There are the bones of an elephant
gravely buried inside me.
There  are phantom limbs attached,
they belong to soldiers who shared beers
in Vietnamese hideouts,
they belong to the widows who lose their wedding rings
down the garbage disposals.