It’s inoperable. A genetic condition, metastasized
in the moment of conception. She has her father’s

eyes, her mother’s skin. One kidney from either
side. Each of her thirty-two teeth can be traced

to a different great-great-great-grandparent.
She’d have to be fully dismantled. Sinew stripped

away, marrow leached from her bones, ribcage
peeled apart. Split into cells, then molecules,

then atoms. Even that would not be enough.
To unmake her, they’d have to unmake the world.

Born to an Argentinian mother and a bear-wrestling father, Maria Greer is a writer from Missoula, Montana. She holds a degree in History and Creative Writing from Stanford University.