i knew a boy with a dent in his chest.
genetic defect, he told me.
his father had it too.

he was lying on his sofa, his head in my lap.
had my hand against his bare chest, fingers tracing
the circumference of it.

let my fingers slide into the cavern
and realized the bone concaved into a well.

“could store water in there,” i laughed.
he sighed.

“do you know what’s a kappa?” he asked.
I shook my head.
And he told me they were Japanese water demons
with indents in their heads.

They needed to keep water in it, or they’d be paralyzed.
eventually, they would die.

me being me, i gave a smile and told him how
he must be living off love.

he sighed again
and stood up, and i could hear it
as something lighter than air
crashed on the floor.