Postsurgery
Abstract
It is not self-pity that brings me to write about this knifed body. It is the quest to understand the change. My abdomen, though never flat, was smooth. Now a scar ratchets up from pubic bone to navel. Steri strips and blood scabs will slough off and cocoa butter will lighten the line, yet I am different in this vessel, only a vessel. I miss what was there and imagine the cavity where the delicate tube kissed the ovary then twisted to seduce the appendix, a messy relationship, a bloody...