says—
anteverted uterus, appears bulky in shape, measures 9.1 x 5.4 x 4.7 cm
one subserosal posterior wall nodule measures 1.9 x 1 x 8 cm, the endometrium measures 0.8 cm
the left ovary measures 2.7 x 1.6 cm, the right ovary measures 2.7 x 1.8 cm
normal appearance

I drank water then, so much that my belly was nearly bursting, my legs soft and sore
my abdomen became thin, transparent, like the georgette I was wearing
just so the device could prospect for the complex topography within
a woman’s end is a file, is history, is, too, geography

the narrative language on the report, written in an objective tone
is the appraisal of a woman’s most crucial component
it reads like teachers’ remarks from school years
those numbers are precise, tractable
intimating that every month a betrothal gift must be handed over

if the report were written in more descriptive language
it should go like this—its shape, rather than a Yu Lan bud awaiting blossom,
looks more like an underwater mine
it wears a cotton jacket with silk interior lining
it wears its heart out in the open, and hides in the depth of the body, in a hidden corner or far outskirts
remote like the wild west of the body
its dark tunnels and narrow escalators connect to the outside and higher ground
it has a door ajar, the dream of birthing a herd of children, and the courage to grow old

if replaced by lyric prose, it should be written like this—
alas, this cradle of humanity
is reared in the body of a failed woman
though she has a fertile maternal instinct, it stops, each time, at a plumule
alas, this church of love
is the ruins of countless romance, like the Old Summer Palace
this other heart, the most solitary, most spacious organ
alas, it used to be a house, an old home, but often feels it has no home to return to
it does not believe in gravity, it has an intuition, tender and damp, and
a memory of having flown