Wisdom Teeth
My ears feel huge, stretched to hear the clock and the refrigerator and the boiler in the basement. My brain feels like my heart, beating rhythmically inside my skull. Little hands move things around and press behind my eyes; my mind seems pregnant with an unfamiliar me. I close my eyes, and the remaining anesthetic, the painkillers, the pain - they enjoy my senses for a while. I journey beyond the couch, into a library, to the fringe of a blue rug in a house that smells like me, to two balconies that seem the same now, where waves lap at curlicue street lamps. I jump, and I’m not sure if I land in the river or on the asphalt, because I wake up to my mother whispering and a cold spoon in my mouth.
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