We Get New Cells

"Every seven years," she said,
"Not all at once, of course." She was
re-testing her food allergies, sneaking
peanut butter cups past her immune system on a Saturday night.
So far the Reese's had been safe, but the imitation crab meat
on a seaweed salad had meant
five hours in the emergency room.

I thought about the hot spear of your voice
seven years ago, and how if now the sight of you
makes my chest tight,
it's probably only natural.

photograph by Bob Fornal


Polydora said...

nice way of approaching conflict, constraint and transformation.

Sweet photo too, in more ways than one!

Adam Wishneusky said...

damn, girl

shut up mike said...

This is great!

 photo copyright.jpg
envye template.