Friday08 Jan 2022
I got up this morning and listened to music,
brushed, showered, and prepared.
Made breakfast and saw snowy streets out the window,
while watching Stephen Colbert.
I put on my boots and trudged out in the gray sky,
careful to not slip anywhere.
He welcomed me with a form, and phone from his pocket
to pick songs from this comfortable chair.
He opened my mouth and stabbed in some needles
and I lost all sensation there,
then scraped and drilled and pulled and stitched in mirth,
excising a part of me there since birth,
as I lay drooling, gasping for air.
He wiped all the blood and gave me some paper,
to replace that which is beyond repair.
I walked out to CVS, and Dunkin for a donut.
Got one and they gave me a spare.
I came home and logged on and checked in at work:
a client call and a session to pair.
All I have now are stitches, a picture, and memories.
That which once was isn’t there.
A Friday to cherish in uniqueness and rarity,
to Freya I send this prayer.
Not again in a year, or two, or ten,
for this I hope and swear.
Until I remember the follow up next week,
much to my despair.