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