I enter in this arch of light above my heart.
Take me back, to that gentle place.
Where I tread upon before age.
I hear a faint crowd in the back,
“Nurse, the scalpel to drag across the chest.”
I’m walking through a bush garden.
Oleanders to my right side.
Oleanders to my left side.
Only their sweet scent can drown the surface pain.
They conceal and protect.
What is left of my folds of consciousness.
In the inwards of the garden,
I rest on the alabaster ground; to bask my pallor body in the crystal light.
The spirits here are tender.
They delicately burrow love atoms in me.
While the living take me apart and rearrange me.
They lay me in cool chambers to relieve the surface heat, like a sunburn stinging inside of me.
I’m wrapped in satin flower petals.
Cocooned here, until I emerge
with child eyes.
Poem: Naomi Ruth
Image blended with Newsha Ghasemi Art