Is she alive?
The blood does not say for sure,
But she shows it to me,
Brought up from underneath in petals
on her eyes and on her arms.
-Some thing within which reaches
and remains always unseen
-Wrapped about it but independent,
behind tired and drifting eyes
-The point which holds the body,
Or body holds,
She shows mostly from her eyes,
but today from lines that cross
crosses across her arm.
And Jesus Christ, help me, she bled.
She bled for each time I spoke with certainty
On such things that one could never be so sure of.
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