Many Simple Things
Michael Hettich

You smiled and then in one gesture you took off your blue jeans as
though peeling back your skin and showed me the bruises all over
your legs. My mother collects butterflies you said as though that
explained things as you proceeded to unzip your body from
crotch to breastbone, pulling two halves of yourself apart, smiling
and beckoning me to step into the kind of garden that grows
inside our bodies, whether we like it or not: There was a snake and
a lizard and a tree of gleaming fingernails; and then you zipped
yourself shut and walked away with me inside, measuring your
bones, imagining new skeletons, echoing within you, already
dreaming of the sky.

ISBN 1-882983-37-8
20 pages/$6