After I listened to my voice mail
I just about sliced off the end of my thumb.
I was cutting up a chayote squash for lunch.

Monstrous deed.
I stood then in the bathroom, tasting blood,
damaged appendage hard against the roof of my mouth,
the edges of my vision darkening, legs trembling.

It was a small wound. The scar (a white C now)
is still rubbery, insensitive.

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