you would make a good glass-jar specimen--
i'll grown you a third & fourth eye
to open 
1) from the back  of your throat--
2) from your wrist where the watch left bite marks

we would never go on that date
a sunday in May with the rain 
threatening to make us sugar water
for the plants

i liked us better
in vials & glass eyes

you had suggested we take our
date to the Mütter Museum 
in Philadelphia: a museum 
of medical oddities 

the romance of oddity is salvaged 
in us-- in men talking
about wanting to make
speculums of each other

open wider, we'll weed 
our blood of the cysts & tumors 
1,500 from the 19th to 21st 
century, save them for 
exhibits, we don't know

when next we'll want to
make fury of cells-- fist
of blood & tissue

did you make wax pathology
of me & light me like
clean-linen candle? or
did you think of us as 

full skeletons in the basement
one after another after another
in drawers of skull & twisted spine

bodies performing their pain 
for causes of science &
rare-bird 

if we had met would we be have
held hands or linked by
the liver like the organs of
the conjoined twins 

haunting & inseparable even
in scalpel & decay

dare we stop the unfurling 
of our natures

let us be visitors then   

observe each other
make staircases of spines
re-purpose quiet hearts
& extra finger bones

tissue from the chest
cavity of john wilkes booth

a kind of chandelier
dangling overhead

i'm sorry i never called you back

what kind of bones?
what kind of bones?