I am amazed at how lovely
a corpse can be made
to look. Slight arc
of the neck, of the arms.
How the hands, purple now, curl
just so, how the toes
point as if she might
begin to dance. Precision
in the woman
cut down. I think
of Emily, killed months ago
in a subway tunnel,
left whole somehow
by passing trains.
It was twelve hours
before anyone noticed her
beside the tracks, so small
she could have been
mistaken for an animal
that got in someone’s way.
Photo by Galaxies and Hurricanes
