IT’S ALL PINK IN THERE

Stella Sacco

The doctor cracks open my ribs.
She takes a step back, stumped.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
(I’m awake for some reason.)
She takes a moment.
“Well,” she says, “All your blood is pink.”
Oh.
“Because your heart is a pink marshmallow bunny.”
“Like from Easter?” 
She nods grimly. “Like from Easter.”
Well. This is embarrassing.
“Does this happen to other girls?”
She’s busy thinking. “I could hurt you.”
“I wish you wouldn’t.” I frown under my mask.
“I could squeeze it or melt it in the microwave.”
“I know you could.”
“It’s just marshmallow.”
Time passes."
My ribs are still splayed.
My soft pink bunny heart beats.
Blood is still pumping.
She’s deciding.