Satin wrapped in hospital kindness
her diagnosis pending
she watches The Red Shoes
Unruly cells have plushed into all parts of her
life now marked by pin & divot
Waiting I edit a comma or full stop
they hold their weight like a secret
escape to end each line
while under breast & lymph
everything has changed
The semi-colon a definite no
made of both, a longer pause
the full stop dancing
like she did
before her children came
She was her own sea
her body thrummed the can can
lashed in cloud-laced tulle
chiffoned Giselle’s despair
arms soft in wilted halo
or swanned lithe & whispering
down to the riverbone
known sepia to me
Once I saw her tipsy waltz
above the Grand Canal
her face flushed & tilted
& I danced her breathless polka
round & round our living room
in Florence on a pale winter afternoon
Made of glass
I can’t choose now
I will find another time
when her body’s been de-cyphered
when words & new notations
do not needle back