Womb slabs
a surgical tray
and my heart—
a ship
of Thesus
ripples
outside its body.
An odd pulse
strokes
the masslessness
of pain
buys all in
to profit
an exhale.
I sigh
a knife
silver enough
to eclipse
fusion—a line
of salt and blood
undone.
Image by Pawel Czerwinski on unsplash.com, licensed under CC 2.0.
Navila Nahid is a writer and published poet, currently residing in Brooklyn, NY. Her published works can be found in samfiftyfour, Chestnut Review, Querencia Press, no Dear Magazine and The Dream Gods anthology. She also has upcoming works in Narrativ Press and Cream City Review. She also has a social media presence on Instagram as @navilanahidpoetry.