The Box - I made a box out of my ribs and gave it to my doctor. She pried the brittle cavities with paper hands, murmuring lost air, my jaw radio wouldn't work. Somewhere underground, she sliced segments of a bent thigh, sprouting from her tongue - woman fire sea, but my ears are sisters to one another. (who swallowed hope?) Next time we stopped I sagged against the coffin.
images taken with a polaroid600SE on fuji100c pack film. The negatives Reclaimed scanned and reverted back to negatives.