The Cut

The surgeon makes the cut

And I shudder

Just a spot of blood

Not as much as

One would think

A cut

An incision

But no

A cut

Call it what it is

It’s a slice

And then--

Entry

I try not to exhale

To keep it in

To remain

Inside myself

And not float out

Out above the body
Lying on the operating table

Out above the doctor

Who I’m screwing

When he’s not at home

With his wife

And two children

Out on the roof

Of the hospital
Where the interns go
To smoke
And where the married doctor and I

Once made love

Late at night

After a sixteen-hour

Emergency surgery

On a toddler

Who had ruptured

A vital part of himself

That he couldn’t live without

We saved him
And the doctor thought

We were making love

To celebrate

But it wasn’t that

It was the cut

Not the blood

Don’t mistake me

The blood is just a symptom

Of the cut

It’s an afterthought

A kept promise

The cut

The cut makes the promise

And the cut breaks the bread

I once told a man

Sitting in a car with me

About my love of it

And he asked me

If I ever cut myself

I told him I wasn’t worthy of it

And he laughed

So I slapped him

And got out of the car

He screamed at me

From behind the steering wheel

And called me a bitch

I imagined cutting him
Along his thigh

But, like me,

He was unworthy of it

The man lying on the operating table

In front of me

Reminds me of that man in the car

But his face seems softer

Lighter

And the cut goes down his chest

And it’s so long

And precise

I feel as if I might lose myself

Become a stitch

A long line

That travels down
And never intersects

Anything

The doctor asks for something
I hand it to him

I steady my hand

I catch my breath

The blood appears

The surgery continues

The doctor hands me the knife

And I’m not sure

What I’m meant to do with it

The cut has already been administered

But the knife glistens

It wants more

I hold it to my wrist

While the lights

Shining down

On the soft man

Flicker

And I feel it

The invitation

A chance to be worthy

The temperature adjusts itself

Air rushes in

And a decision

Has been made

I’m worthy

I’ve made

The cut