Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
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
796
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems