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Benign Neglect
by Karen Porter
Touching you with tumor hands
to nudge around your DNA,
untying every knot until
the noose you wear is bridal lace.
Hands creep furrows to plant
seeds of wet misfortune.
Tough luck takes a blooming turn:
hard kiss, a cement union.
Little heart inside my fist,
lush lungs remember gills.
Raw brain over petaled eyes
safe within an urn.
Not true god but still appalling,
a jagged cleft, a starving child:
weak seedling with pale roots
yanked out to die.
© Porter, 2006
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