Natalia del Pilar

STUDY ON A GIRL WITH A SYNDROME

go on.
make my thighs the same

or a similar
length

begin with neat precision.
scalpel on skin. no blood

only water
like how they said i was born.

i should be asleep,
but the fingers working

on my body, they
have memories of other bodies

& if you open my left thigh
you’ll see the face of my great

grandmother, brown & grand.
wicked with knowing.

the medical students will come to witness
and groan like prophets.

wield pens & scrape blue crosses
over their notes.

with gritted teeth behind
a mask you’ll seal the prayer taut

with sutures black and ripe
enough to pick.

hope that it is enough.
hope to god that it is enough.

i remembered lazarus after i pretended
to wake up.

after you whispered
it was perfect

like the pull and snap
of gloves

you smiled, waved
goodbye.

but the time is
sterile & the queue

is long & my stretcher
rolls out the room

backwards.