Jessica Bozek

from One Wound in Another

Begin with a fact: most treatments for cancer at this stage are merely 

Go to a wide field some windy afternoon. Look toward the horizon, 
where the animals, one by one, will stutter out of view. Lie down in 
what looks like the center. Grind the aching blue sky, if you can, to a 
fine powder and scatter it across the dirt as you mouth the options.

Tuck those away in your pocket. Then, fiddle with your zippers and 
pull up your hood.

We spent the day scooping paper

images of a woman’s face into low mounds 

for wolves, static gradations

across the snowfield. 

They would take her back to their dens.

We imagined ink from these prints

staining the muzzles of their young.

After her funeral, our bodies cut

slowly through the softened air.  

We waited for a red door on the horizon, 

a ship to take us out to sea.

find her

winding yarn into a new cloudscape