Frost eyes stare

into the layers

and layers underneath.

Rotate, adjust, rotate, adjust.

some eyes are made

to look at what’s under

miscroscopes

and see the dinosaur-old cells

within barely human

humans.

Cold hands always

gloved blue or white or green.

Scrape, cut, scrape, cut.

Some hands touch

the insides, even graze

the silver linings

of a purpling heart.

Soft ears finding

beats in between too-long

seconds.

Thud, silence, thud, silence.

Some ears hear

the scarcely audible breathing

of the lungs

and are made

to listen

to a harsh high-pitched sound

that will resonate

through the thick walls

of death and life

when the time comes.