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1/23/06. edit to topic: i kept her longer. couldn't let her go. don't know that i ever will...long enough to hear, not imagine, her heartbeats...what a miracle...and to find out that my dreams of a girl were correct. and to put my life on the line and (partly because of that) be less angry with him.

i've also added a stanza and italicized one word that needed it.

our months
tiny heartbeats
fall from the scalpel
as i lay
vanquished in post-op
they are scurried into
the autoclave

what a lucky
thing to be
born a scalpel;
it will
shake itself
free will
or be haunted by
any hopes and dreams

...dreams last
night of
bassinets from
wildfires and
full inclining
garbage trucks
with tons of
smelted goo,
from hammocks
nearly broken above
bald rocky ground-

but the scalpel,
you wonder?
ah yes.
the scalpel.

it will
traipse along
its merry way
go on to
save lives in
triple bypass,
herniated disks and
remove polyps
as blithely
as it
removes beauty
(as aged women
to destroy crow's
feet and character-
to look Good!)

but i will always
remember the
heartbeats that i
never heard
the heartbeats
that i hate you for

that you couldn't
wouldn't let me keep. must be nice to be a
it must be nice to be a