Bodily

The space between the rock
formations a mirror image of S,
the formations one sliding left
the other right, like sliding doors.
I shot through the inverted S into
weightlessness, hovering as cosmic
soundlessness. Stars numerous
as pinpricks circling the massive
chest pain earlier, before I saw
the doctor from the ceiling, hearing
him say, “We’ve lost him.” But I
suspect the voice saying, “It’s not
yet time,” was what sucked me
back through space, in time to hear
the terrified medical examiner
exclaim, “Jesus Christ!”