Epitomist
After the stroke every morning Lazarus the sensory & its sleeping twin
your skin a possibility for recapitulation The ghost removes
a pant leg, a sleeve, its sweater unraveled to the breastbone
to an assumed line of demarcation It takes a mirror to recognize
the stranger parts boundary lines, the etching of banks & flood waters
left behind when drought takes its season
The meat imagines the shell: a collection of ridges like teeth
Inside, the brain & its cavities plot holes: scriptural
contradiction: literal fables littering your projected outcomes
The garment’s frayed edge: a thing’s half-life Love thy neighbor
as this clingstone within its equatorial sphere: a dying
sparrow & then a tiny cage the hollow tubing that consumes
its brackets as around every pit, there is flesh An empty space within
the embodied landscape: locale of the mythologized self
black holes & gravity waves: a stunning canvas of resonant imaging:
a catalyst for stasis inside the cocoon: glial cells :mitochondrial
wing flecks: threads & sutures conjoined life before
afterlife: a window you recognize because you are seeing through it
Bonnie Shiffler-Olsen is a poly-artist and caregiver. Her work has been published or is forthcoming in Dialogue: A Journal of Mormon Thought, the anthologies “Broken Atoms in Our Hands” and “Dovesong,” and elsewhere. She resides in Utah, writing and caring for her philosopher husband as they work at stroke recovery, the definitions of selfhood, and love.