and when I get ink on my hands, it washes off that spot fastest.
Dr. Nash lied when I called him from the bathroom floor.
You're going to be just fine
you'll be a finger model, if you want!
he was right about the first part.
but what's remarkable about this story is that I had the doctor's number in my cell phone and his receptionist picked up and put me right through.
and if he lied, it was because could hear me panicking
I felt stupid for using the electric tool to mix those cookies, just to make them fluffier,
I could have done them by hand.
consciousness, rachel! stay connected to the bottom truth!
that spot on my hand has mangled nerves, clusters and holes of them.
it always feels like it's about to bust through to
about to reassemble in to its normal self.
do I imagine that healing is exponential change?
dialectics made physical?
this story is a statement of pervasive privilege.
access to the blender and the doctor and the phone and the power.
and more and less sensation in my finger.
No comments:
Post a Comment