I’m struck by the basketry of bones containing the thorax;
that unexpected view
of internal anatomy,
a map of pain.
I think of Frida
Kahlo, the broken ionic column that supported her,
the deer struck with
so many arrows,
all contained within
her defiance.
And then I see that
the bones are not containment,
they are radiant;
they radiate
strength.
No comments:
Post a Comment