Our hands,
Extra on the fingers
Deserted our arms -
Clever silhouettes flying
Like seagulls in a dusky sky,
Searching for soft sands
To rest for the night.
Your chest
My thighs.
Now it’s
My hands
Extra on the fingers
Backspacing the narration.
Control + delete
Don’t just erase -
Give me a complete
Ablation.
Poem & illustration by Susan Conner December, 2020