Tuesday Poem: How He Found Her - Helen Heath

Monday, 3rd May, 2010

How he found her



He tells the legend

again, how they met

over the varsity

dissection table.

Did their hands touch?

Did he admire her

frown of concentration?

Did she call him

a buffoon, even then?

When did he know?


As he watched intently

her small fingers

peeled back the skin

and pinned it down,

exposing the muscle layer

then deeper to the organs,

pulling them out –

laying them on the table.


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(cross posted to Helen Squared)

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I love this poem. I knew a nurse who met her husband (a Doctor) over a cardiac arrest

<p>Thanks P! :) Did the patient survive?</p>

Hi Helen I admire the way you've dissection as a metaphor for relationship in this poem; the way you say as much about the anatomy of attraction and relationship dynamics as you do about the physical body with all its hidden layers. The image of the woman peeling back the skin and pinning it down while he watches intently is chilling - as it the final line where she pulls the organs out and lays them on the table. No more hidden secrets - everything in full view. Whew! Thanks - Claire

<p>Thank you Claire!</p>

Thanks for this Helen, it's lovely. And slightly yukky.

<p>hehe Thanks HR</p>