The Surgeon's House

where did my father find this photograph?
where is the spite, the narrowed eyes?
she was so beautiful in black and white
anywhere else, would i recognize that smile
is it like mine?
was this before she died from making the best of it?
prehistory in tacked-up polaroid
proof of a life nothing survived
anger like amber, where they’re fossilized
maybe i like the way it dulls the light
anaesthetized
were we ever alive?
it’s so cold inside the surgeon’s house tonight