Water Vein
by Kristen R. Garcia
I asked them to bury me
face down
palms pointing up
toward the satin
lining the lid
envisioning the moment
that material failed
when it flaked
snowing down to my
fingertips
I would experience
a lasting winter
gather the threads
in tightened bones
absorb
then when the sky opened
up with sunlight
I could share
water with my grandmother
grandfather
my children
raining from the vein
after the liquid
was taken out of me