the anatomist

bones buried in air

the anatomist exhales deeply

and describes how the vein

loops into the spacelessness of breath

where there is liquid now

but emptiness then

he goes on

showing a figure of what it would’ve looked like

if it didn’t look like this

he goes on

illustrating that the vein is perfect in its original form

though it weeps silly now

he goes on

while i do not

there still as her

speaking the shared language

in silence

asking her why her nails were

painted a bruised purple

what her last dream was before her last night

whether she was ever tired

of going to the beach to soak in the sun

was watermelon her favourite snack

how she feels now with me feeling her

hands uselessly fluid

in the small dark secret place that would give

her final words

pulled out like the wave by the moon

before it crashes

be firm

the anatomist says

it helps it if you hold it in

i try not to breath

to remain static

but i am to live

this life

with regret