With my flesh open, I can hear the inside
of my body
                                                           as it tells me about the need for water,
                                                           the thirst that never goes away, the
            thick pieces of titanium nested
            in bone
                                                Surgery heals with the destruction of skin and flesh and
I practice the cutting technique, the removal
of objects, the gliding of a needle into
                                    the soft part of a limb
                                                                        I recognize that I don’t know what I am,
                                                                        why my skin and hair and eyes are dark
            Even with my flesh open, I don’t know
            the people I’ve come from but
                        I am so aware of the color of my irises and
                        the raised scars on my body and the
                                                           places where stitches like black
                                                           insects have held me together,
kept me from pulling apart,
kept me from biting the soft parts for sustenance