“fantasy of the day yet to come”
by Melisa Santana
i volunteer to lay on that table
cold and bare at their fingertips. i’ve
stripped to uncomfortable vulnerability
just for them. scalpel in hand, they’ll
cut me open and fawn. hold my
ribs with fragile care, kiss my heart
like none had ever done before, like
only they can. unravel my
intestines. caress muscle, bloody
and tense without woe. they tell me
the lengths of their love, unconditional,
and lick tears from my cheeks as,
for the first time, i struggle for
words. then they’ll put me back
together, carefully, until i am whole
again, leaving an eyelash of theirs in
my chest cavity – a permanent
reminder of love extended to infinity.
