Thomas draws out dotted-line
shapes on his skin, under
his button-up shirt, during
the bathroom break took around
ten, when A.J. and Daniel go outside
to smoke, Thomas ducks into the
dead-lemon john, and he
charts out worm holes. His shirt
open, Thomas makes topographies
of rot for when they put him
down. “Burrow Here,” with arrows,
helpful dashed circles with
demarcations for ribs, tough sternum,
“Clear Sailing” on his stomach.
Civil, engineer for his future, Thomas smudges,
buttons down shirt, returns to work.
