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