home

he carved through them

like rare steak.

fingers sharp as knives-

decorated the lab-

ripped white coats

and fresh red paint.

–

elevators turn-

stomachs rise-

decor erased

buckets

and heavy black bags-

except one-

–

one man-

shelved on the lone

operation table-

shivering, absent

praying.

no gods

were present here.

–

the man lunges

drives his fist-

weakened

under my chin

revealing a golden

stained rosary-

still clutched, still present.

–

“did you see anything,

do you

remember.”

i know-

he can’t.

–

decay spews

from his opened belly,

death fills the table-

the rosary drifted

fallen-

to the laboratory floor,

–

“home.”