today I was afraid of losing my right hand and learning to write with my left hand and the hook or claw or flesh-colored-but-not-my- flesh-colored prosthetic I would be given and the jocular ways I would avoid talking to people about it
and the nights I would sit at home staring at the place where I once held a fork I was afraid of all of this until I lay down and drifted to a place where I was afraid of losing my teeth