She feels the void          in her chest                           expanding         
feeding itself with its own fiber           self-generative
organism of want               the damaged organ of its color
splattered across the chapel                  stains                          

like stains                scissoring            across mantle
punctured lung        tremble limb       bleeding something
swollen that translates           into closing
and who            cuts               the powder blade?
who returns       the body?
who loves          without loving neglect?

ungodly icon filling the space           holes of ages ago
hole as carving               unexcavated time
hole as a knife's footprint in moist soil    
love as knife       turning        high as Almighty 
the Kingdom of Euphoric Ends        hole as whole cloth
hole as reenactment of the first unintelligible incision
hole as "I want to see what is beneath this skin"
hole as "Let me take care of you"
hole as museum         exhibits of screaming

**

her back a powder smudge in the window
surrounded by lost artifacts        too late for letting
resew each sinew                  mouth-deep in headache
subsisting on marrow soup            uneven substitutes
apology letter     to the body       unwritten beloved
blind wading        belief              (it will come to an end)
a trickle of trauma softening the train coming in

that murmur of his departure       like a field song
wandering in a maze of misplaced want    
she has shaved its head          ignored the hunger
capitulated          hemmed in by quarantine    All is     
please     faint linger     lover come back    miming
do I have power       or does it have power
Learning to be         but quieter

__

Our bodies are in a perpetual state of withdrawal and return, they must constantly be reclaimed from that bleeding something.