POETRY on {Envy}: Surgeon

I want to be somewhere between inside

you and you,

feel myself when pressed silent

against our skin.

I’ll settle for this gowned

life,

wrapping myself loosely around your

aching body,

dangling limp off your cold

shoulders,

an afterthought of blood and cloth.

I can’t help my invasive desire,

my

wish to slip inside your chest and massage

your heart with my hands,

cut away the dead

tissue and the cancerous longing for

any experience beyond this bed,

this surgical table where we invade

each other for love and medicinal

benefit,

your body the cause of all

my pains but also the source of my cure.