Last night i dreamt that i had feathers tattooed on the inside of each of my wrists. they were the palest of little wings.. faint enough to see through to the blue rivers criss crossing just below the surface of my skin.
There is an undercurrent of sadness inside of me. a canyon. a slow and deep welling. my history, a spark that ignites some simple and tornadic source of emotion... tunneling through the basements of a hospital. to the cold rooms. undressed.. a crib in the changing room. tiny marks are made. cold. metal slides over me. they leave the room... I hold my breath. a child and a machine. God and science.
A heart is also a heart.