Your hand slips between your lips
and lifts all her fingers inside.
She’s not lost anymore,
walks straight past the canines (sharp!)
takes a right at the left molar
2 paces South of the Tongue and
— aha!

The Oesophagus.

OK, now, one finger at a time
              … everyone here? Great now,
                           down the pipe –
              – safe landing.

She walks 5 paces North of The Ossiphageous and finds

Your Lungs.



The Heart.

Pinky curls herself around the aorta, and ties it around her waist.

They work together,
push themselves against the slippery walls of the tunnel

You cough. Out they come.

Your heart rests on your hands. You examine it. It’s a strange little thing.

Your fingers ask:
You can’t really be serious, right?
It’s a chunk of metal.

You tell them:
Surely, that makes it all the more malleable?

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