on my right thumb
from when I broke a glass
years ago.
On my left hand,
there is a lump,
a reminder from
an injury I do not
recall.
If I straighten my leg,
there is a divot on my knee
from when I fell
rollerblading home.
My feet are unrecognizable
underneath calluses and blisters
from one to many hours
spent in a dance studio.
I have all these
reminders, memories
freckling my body,
letting me know I
felt pain there,
once.
But I do not feel
that pain anymore.
I have to look
to remember the
ache that was once there.
It is different from
feeling.
The way I
empty
when you are not there.
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