the healing muse

Her Breath

      —to Hélène’s Donor

Andrew Schep

I pray
for the lungs
she needs,
but not
without knowing
what I’m asking

of you,
that your home
be diminished
to keep another
full,
your perfect
machinery
unplugged,
dismantled,
reassigned,

and your parents,
that they rise
to the awfullest
altruism:
a growing
family
of strangers,

and would
they take,
for what’s taken
from them,
her breath,
each

as your
reply
to the sighs
of grief,
a small,
persistent
rebirth.

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