self / dissection more than one layer of skin. i'm not speaking scientifically, i mean peeling. petal or fruit flesh. stem or sinew. what way do you open? i do not have the same god or father i had three years ago. i open eager & fearful. three vials of blood. broken elbow turned boomarang. for me, a knife is always a harvestor. online you can order specimens for dissection. you don't have to be a scientist, but then again, science hovers over all of us. i used to be a scientist of dead birds. i used to pluck out my own dead feathers & dead beak & dead talons & the dead sky ate holes in my bones. one day i neglected science to i turned myself into a mushroom & i sat there in warm mucky shade. now, yes, i am full of skin again. online they have all kinds of potential dissection bodies. a frog splayed talismen wide. buckets & buckets of worms. fetal pigs, still waiting to be born with their eyes pressed shut. i was one of them & i laid in preserving fluids waiting for the good great scapel to age me into a human. i dreamed of running through tall grass & letting my body sever apart. dropping organs in the reeds. heart. lung. liver. a body is held together by very little. single red thread. i have done it many times, took a scissors around the neck of the thread & tugged at it gentley. i've said to the thread "you want to come apart." how easily we could be scattered or jarred or inspected. who would want me who would want me. a finger. a tongue. a shoulder. i want to put myself on the dissection specimen website but i find no place to offer so instead i go to the bathroom mirror. the face is a plate. my nose wants to be cut off & so does my left eye. they tell me it's for the sake of discovery. i tell my body to wait. in the backyard i crouch until i'm a thin sliver of ivy creeping between rocks. i will stay here until my wild unwinding passes. i am nothing worth unearthing. somewhere, boxes & boxes of specimens are being shipped. fetal pig. small hooves. closed eyes. there have been millions dissected already. an ancestory of still birth. no knew bones. a repetition. layer after layer of skin.