I held ice to the angry burn on her finger until she protested the pain.
Then begged me to apply it again.
She hurt herself making a morning meal
Honest to god
I didn’t know how to feel.
Eggs relish and steak, heart and pain on a plate.
My senses embraced,
I thought, surely, this must be fate.
Even though we ate freely
We both had reservations
Mouthfuls of courage
But bite-sized intentions
it was all or nothing and I chose starvation
I pick the scorn from my teeth
I try to forget my elation