tomography

i am suddenly a living replica of my father // stagnant, muttering terminology i hardly can google // a small recorder catches the syllables // falling off his speech // his right hemispheres contort // on radiology monitors // dissipate and reappear // like our waning arguments in the dead of night // “who pays for your dinner” // “who is fulfilling your filial dreams” // optical illusions, if you stare long // enough you’ll find yourself morphing // without knowing how to readjust to the world apart from distraction // like him, disease salutes me // knees permanently burrowed in my chest // this is where i enter the underpass // an email that read ______      // how could you distract me from my friends, izzy writes // how could you be cremated // in your own bandages, unbinding // immersed in your ambition not even half // invested in mine // how could you leave me // without a ribbon to my name // dad told me to mind my allergies // distance myself from idiopathism // but i was splintered in hindsight from // other relationships // by avoiding introverted tendencies // papa and i // become them // pity was the skin // sheathing me when my arteries bulged // she curtailed my speed // then catapulted off the threshold // laid bare on my psyche // with built in fractures // i sacrificed a lamb, or two // or maybe a limb // they were insomniac creatures // no easy blessings // unlike my father, i am no cure // i pray that claritin picks apart this landmine // bloodclots stifled by // “sorry, i take that back” // and calls left unanswered // my skin tightens across my thighs and hacks from obsession // little by little // this body has been borrowed // and blued by self-absorption // no IV tubes can drain // sterile winds whir above me // my cerebrum uploaded to his HP laptop // i can’t study // dad taps my shoulder twice // relentless to answer // for himself // where i’ve been // he asks why my face has lost its red // and why i’ve been so difficult to read // i tell him i’ve hijacked my own diagnosis // not realizing all i succumb // until the only condition left // a patience, disintegrated // we are always immune // to each herring, except // for when we straighten our backs // against the magnetic resonance // imaging without         // never there the last time // we checked

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I told her that they were aspen trees.