*Untitled*

her insides flat
contain hard white
edges cracked
and drained of origin

a diameter that was full of breath,
beating hearts and lungs
is now a home where nothing
lives. This two
ounces of skeletal
light, their last
memory. White

sky walls
carry a costal breeze
up over her head
as she pulls
the fragile body
out from grains of sand.

“A sand dollar,” she says.
Smiling gently, placing
this of all life’s missed
fortuities between a humble
bulge and the elastic band
of her bathing suit.