As the body’s laid out,
we stand at attention
waiting for the clearest light
and then sharpen our instruments.

First the eyes removed
to see what was seen,
ear probed to hear what was heard,
then, the heart dissected
to find what was missed.

It takes time to cut tenderly
into the bone and sinew
of the past, each knife stroke
a loving incision.

There is no entrance.
Only entering.
And when the body’s exposed,
we climb inside,
pull closed the flaps of skin
and slowly heal ourselves.

Ruth Daigon | Mudlark No. 25
Contents | Mouthing Secrets