once, something sheltered
under my left hipbone
my lover found it with open hand,
blood filling her palm lines
once
a man brimmed me with trustand future
and yet, no more. end of everybodything.
lover of mine demands, when
demands, whose bones are these
my body holding such hollow
once, my friend overcooked a turkey,
pulled the top off whole to reveal splintered ribs
among gaped and steaming openness
we laughed at such a vulnerable state
lover with my blood
in both hands
stands demanding to know the name
of this found brokenthing
with the indignity of a woman
who has never crouched in front of her toilet
to divine, like tea leaves,
what happened