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Τoday we went to the dissection room / 2016

A love letter

Today we went to the dissection room.

We were given gloves and aprons and were made to leave all of our belongings behind.

The room was bright, clean

and air conditioned, not too dissimilar to this.

There were pickle jars on shelves and a strong smell of fresh plastic ,

which made me think of our kitchen table at home.

And you were brought to me

and made to lay in front of me,

and your skin was cold and wet and shiny and your belly stuffed with cloth.

I opened your caved in chest and stroked the inside of your skin for the first time.

Velvety like suede on the inside

solid and shiny like leather on the outside.


And I took your ribcage and your heart out and your grey lungs, 

and then put them all back in and covered them with the remaining membrane.

And they all  fell right into place.

A soft child's puzzle.

And I kept reminding myself that you are not a leather bag.

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