The shoes are the first to go.
of things that went wrong
of their own. The jars are labeled
it took the womb
This here is sucking its thumb.
floats the apostrophe of a dog.
passes through these walls.
cracks on the glass keep the window
the function of the living to act
Fetuses repeat themselves
These glass cabinets are murals
with drowned concubine hearts.
an experience like putting one’s face
Outside, there’s a woman
The eye grows
the foreign matter
The room shrinks into blood climbing
the body is preparing itself to leave.
the wrists spiral outward.
Back in high school, we had to walk through this corridor lined with glass cabinets filled with specimen jars to get to the science lab. Since the fetuses were donated to the school, it made me wonder if they came from alumnae. I don't think this was the case, but decades later I dreamed about being a dead alumna haunting this corridor in order to commune with her unborn children.