Ever since that day I posed from waist up
the image follows me like a child with a marker
trailing lines across walls
naked, first time
I glow on lightbox after lightbox
beneath radiologists’ gazes,
parse pathology reports—
partly cloudy sky.
After summer’s rain leaves soft mists
rising from the lawn like steam
the image rises beneath my feet
colonies of twisted angleworms
oozing between blades of grass
absorbing oxygen through their flesh.
My screensaver is an unintended splash
of intraductal cribriform, coalescing left, center, right
rapid sequence Day-Glo lime on black.
I see calcium deposits in flocks of starlings
smattering the sky—
see how they disperse, regroup!
I prefer to see my cancer above, shout
to primed heavens, lift my chin, cheer
fireworks in the night, pupils constricted
exuberant burst fading to black
after-image etched in permanence.