i see you curled in the petri dish
surrounded by bloody paper towels
it’s hard to think of you fondly,
but you “knew me when”
do you retain any impression of our time together?
are you happy to be free of me, too?
the sutures leave a track longer than my thumb
the skin of my back, now numb, protrudes like a dorsal fin
a personal touch, your final gift
(you know how much i love dolphins)
