this is the recurring nightmare:
row upon
row of white-tented
death,
gathering fragments of
bone; gloved hands straddling
dimensions (living and the
dead, and perhaps
more symbolic than she ever thought)
each one revives in
the ghostly scans
etched in blue-
white
dying to tell her
their stories:
this fracture, this
defect,felloffmybike/
cerebral palsy made me
this way.

come upon
another artifact: this one
dons garishly
striped socks
and sits with a wry
smile on his
scarred bloody
face:
(hello, Bones)

waking only banishes
dreams as
far as
daylight
stretches.