Kristen Orser

Dear reoccurrence,

I pulled out a plank of the hardwoods and there were crescent shaped toenails, the back of an earring, and Matthew's gallbladder. 

                        Here's what's truly horrible:  It was easy to watch him leave.  It felt like washing dishes.  Like any ordinary Tuesday where I feel more like a hypothesis than a body.

I've considered the alternatives and I've decided it can't be that hard to pull out your own organs.  I wouldn't be surprised if it was mostly empty space—if all the feelings about feelings were just desperate hopes. 

The knots in my hair are just a posture—        Have you heard about the girl who choked on a hyacinth?  There's nothing to say about anything that matters: Sisyphus between my toes.  I know the umbilical chord choked the baby, but I can't stop screaming. 

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