Yes, here I am
All body parts
Intact, where they should be.
My heart to beat
My feet to walk
Both eyes in orbs to see.
I have two lungs
If you want one
Please put away your knife.
I’m keeping both
Within my chest
I will not save your life.
You danced the stage
So lithe and light
Like Tinkerbelle aglow
In twilight shimmering
Magically
Until you stubbed your toe.
And fell. Kaput!
A bag of bones
And roughly hit the floor.
Your life upon
The stage in ruins
For you could dance no more.
Unless you got
A kindly soul
To give to you a foot;
Then you could dance
As once you did
Before you went Kaput.
So to my door
Your champions came
To make a small request:
They said, “You have
Two feet. Give one
To her – it would be best.
You aren’t an artist
You don’t glow.
You are not lithe and light.
You cannot dance
Upon a stage
As winsome as a sprite.
Two feet are much
Too much for you;
Your need is not as great.
And you must give
Your extra foot
To her – that is your fate.”
So said your burly
Champions after
Coming to my door.
Because, you fool,
You stubbed your toe,
And stumbled to the floor!
Now listen here,
My lithesome dear,
I’m sorry for your woe.
And truly if
From clay I could
I’d gladly craft a toe.
To stitch or glue
Or staple to
Your foot to give you cheer,
So you again
Could leap and dance
Resuming your career.
You feel entitled
To the foot that
Dangles from my ankle
Well, frankly dear,
The thought of that
Does more than merely rankle.
I do not care
If you can sing
With nightingale’s tongue.
You cannot have
If you should need
My second (extra) lung.
My kidneys, too,
I shall retain
And all my extra skin.
All my superfluous
Body parts,
I plan to keep within.
The temple of
My spirit may
Not be a giving kind.
But I don’t care
Because, my dear,
What’s mine is mine is mine!
Shelly Reuben has been nominated for Edgar, Prometheus, and Falcon awards. She is an author, private detective, and fire investigator. For more about her books, visit www.shellyreuben.com.
Copyright © Shelly Reuben, 2014