Three Doctors Pulled You Out

I. 
before and after another unhelpful
binary / the event an unimportant boundary
 
weren’t we both alive
before / during / and / after? every passing minute /
 
time is neither linear nor circular / but
living / either and other are not options if everything is happening /
right / now / remove the choice / remove / 
between / remove / but. 
 
then the poem is shorter:
                                                before and after / 
                                                the event / we:
                                                alive and living
 
                                                time right now
 
 
II. 
collapsing the minutes I feel you weighty and the seam
of me opening all at once
 
as a child someone’s mother taught me to sew
thread running, bobbing, I wanted to see underneath
 
where does it tie together
 
 
III. 
            the blank line becomes a name
the empty corner / a crib / my body a /
bed / a kitchen / a house / your feverish face
pressing the wall / collarbone
faucet / cheek / floor / abdomen
 
 
IV. 
before and after there was a curtain and in this other and same time you
are on both sides of the cloth / I am shaking
 
shaken / whispering in your ear / time eating my
tongue from the inside
 
on the paperwork I wrote / I will write / I am writing your name
an offering I cut out of myself
 
stitching and stitching and stitching you into the world