Walking from museum to museum
almost crying in each one
in front of an oil painting of a bowl of fruit
in front of a tiny suit of armour
in front of a glass display box of locusts
treading all over each other
in front of a fossilised dinosaur dropping
pink and grey like a pork pie
split in two and varnished
in front of a stuffed pygmy marmoset
hugging the smallest branch
in front of a reconstructed typical Tudor kitchen
with taxidermied chickens and plastic bread
in front of hairpins and pots
a beautifully chiseled miniature family
with a glowing baby you can see light through
in front of the cake selection in the café
in front of a mummy with hair on its feet
a sign that says in 1902 it was publicly
unwrapped and the bandages given
to audience members as souvenirs
in front of various instruments for
torture and castration dented with use
an animatronic man cowering in the corner
in front of a series of mosaics
depicting erotic scenes from ancient Rome
in front of a life-size marble effigy
of a girl about my age
her hands forced into prayer
I want to lean in and kiss her cold lips