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Oct 2015
I behind her watching in the cold room she unzips
my gift blue bagged and pink skinned pungently
I exhale she inhales turning away from
my half-closed eyes closing her eyes
stinging from the stench of
my body given for her
for the blade of her scalpel to
slice she cuts along my spine
and I trace ghostly fingers in a line
down her shivering back to say there
that is the place where
what you see beneath in me is you.
From my anatomy lab experience in med school-the ghost who taught me what it means to be human underneath the surface.
Liz Humphrey
Written by
Liz Humphrey
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