by Whitney Egstad
means it will not show up in an x-ray.
Radiolucent is the blood, the breast, the phantom
limb. The heartbreak, bad luck,
ghost tooth, gunman, and soft tissue
injuries. For example, the splintered memory
of the door broken into and over
my body does not show up
on a radiograph. List for me
my fractures. Radiate the score
my body keeps. I ask you, machine,
what shatters when the bullet misses bone? You
are ill-equipped to show me
anything but skeleton, chalky tubes of light
so white-hot they make my eyes sting.
Maybe this it— what rings cold and fluorescent
in my ears: a nagging bulb that buzzes
nightly just beneath my skin.
Whitney Egstad is a writer, dancer, and educator in the Denver area. Her poems and essays have appeared in various publications including The Best of the Net Anthology and The Rumpus. Her research, professional, and personal projects are centered on the intersection of healing and the arts.
Emerge Literary Journal 