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Helix
by Adrienne Lewis
There is nothing to pushing through
the curved ridge of an outer ear. The helix
twirls around our heads
on two sides, asking for it
to be done. You just lay still
and wait for the pinch,
and then the warmth—
blood seeping from the new hole.
You say, That didn’t hurt
much. Later
you’ll forget the comment
as you dodge advances, offers
to have it touched and kissed,
but for now it is true—
the whole process somewhat like a memory
of lost love in reverse.