She is an angel
A tiny broken star
Small and plump and pink
Curled like a cat
With jumbled limbs
Waiting

Beneath folds of linen
Her breath remains in her throat
Lungs full and heart slow
Counting her seconds
Biding her time
Faking

She bursts forth
Tangled in linen
Tossing sheet aside
Heart in her throat
A vessel reanimated
Escaping

Foreign bony fingers
Grope through darkness
To an empty crumpled sheet
And footsteps by the door
Of the full-nerved carcase
Going

Startled like a rabbit
She dives into cold air
Beneath a bold and endless sky
Beyond the known world
Into the vast and extraordinary
Living