there was that 
man on the train
some infection
arm bulbous
he kept grabbing his arm
stretching it out
trying to unstuck from inside
no way to escape a body
in this life
a child watched him in horror
he cradled his arm as if it were
a loaf of bread
bulging over a pan
his face inescapable in knife
piercing the bread

then we went for lemons and sweets
in the meadow
of our longing