MY NERVES are tickled up, the hairs that fill my body all tingly-tingly. I once put my hand on a hot plate, the red red coils spoke to me like a magnet. I have a hard puckered ridge on my palm, an arc, a keepsake of that day, a constant reminder. The medications work against me at times, but I’m glad you came, I like your dress, the way you do your hair now. Tell me about yourself, what you do every day, your name.

Comments are closed.