Oxygen

‰ЫПMy friend is an archaeologist. He likes bones. Dinosaur bones, Neanderthal bones, ribs from the Chinese takeaway. When I am Egyptian he brushes me with his brushes, my flesh his dust. When I am Siberian he ladles warm water over me, thawing me slowly. I open my eyes. My mother says, Just remember: if it‰ЫЄs pink inside, it isn‰ЫЄt done.‰Ыќ