After I died, my heart lived
in another person’s chest
singing to an unfamiliar song
and my lungs went on giving
and receiving air that tastes
a little less livid and weighs
a lot, lot lighter than the old one.
The world is the same
but even my corneas disagreed
—sunlight is now painful
to look at and pitch black
darkness is the most peaceful
thing I could find and my skin,
oh my skin, it now feels a lot
more comfortable in a body
that is not quite its own.
Have I changed? If you swab
all of my remaining pieces
you can read it my DNA:
I still carry the same code.
Putting a man through an ice box
maybe that changes everything.
—maybe the cold can’t preserve us
in the same way that warmth can.
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Mark is from the Philippines. He is an HR Professional and a graduate of Ateneo de Manila University. When he is not conducting workshops, managing organizational change, and designing communication plans, he scribbles poetry.