there’s a pink spot
by my pinky toe
where a blister lived
eight months ago
and I told myself
when that blister heals
you’ll be gone
but it stayed here.
it doesn’t hurt anymore
what I mean is, it’s only sore
when I touch it, when I
remember before.
One moment we’re strolling arm in arm in tropical sand, feeding bananas to iguanas down a forbidden path, luring cats, finding tiny shells that come to life in our hands…
“it’s not gonna pinch me – ow!”
then just like that
you’re gone
and my little toe
still throbbed.
and then, you came back,
a hull of
your former self
not unlike the shells
we held.
will you come to life in my hands?
or will you rot,
and creep, and seep
over the suitcase
I already packed?
there was a pink spot
by my pinky toe
where a blister lived
eight months ago.
