the way the surgeon lost count of the stitches
the way the skin grew back
the way one side of your face is stretched so tight
it will never wrinkle
the way the other side will
the way you forget
the way one nugget of glass is sewn into your chin
the way the lump glides under the surface
the way it grinds when it presses against bone
the way you flinch
the way you guide someone's fingers to it
the way you stay still
the way that hand pulls back
the way that hand returns, thinking it is the first
to touch you there
PoemWiki 评分
暂无评论 写评论