I use a serrated knife to saw a bagel lengthwise as the edge of metal lodges into b o u n c y gluten I remember the flowers in the bag parched my hand leaves the knife warped bread not whole not cut through completely The scar sits below my pinky half an inch right at the bone once, a little girl picked up apple juice in thick glass r a n tripped smashing glass in s l o w motion to fall fast soft belly into broken glass knees in sticky juice, sliding metallic sweet a fat shard stuck in my hand I don't remember tears I remember the white glint of narrowed eyes
Afraid of trouble with mom
Today I run my finger along the scar a groove parting the skin sea and find comfort in the deformity
Layered Fragments, Becoming Whole 