She saw her naked future
before her funeral.
It went through stony flesh
leisurely, like a ghost.
She lost (in an electromagnetic
river) our nest
(our human nest built of
faustian overbookness).
The lab, where photography had won
millions of lives,
was dusty, achromatic, hypnotizing, —
was almost a graveyard?
He got undressed and told
his bones ‘hello!’
She was the wife of a physicist, her name was
Anna Rontgen.