The bell dings and the light goes soft

The bell dings and the light goes soft.

I wait for the cable to hum and hold

before I let the air out of my chest.

My stomach spills over my belt like dough,

heavy and honest and finally unobserved.

I lean my forehead against the wall.

The brushed steel is a cold, flat palm

pressing against the heat of the day.

I look at the camera in the corner

and wonder if the man in the basement

is watching me turn back into a person.