He
unbuttons his collar
to reveal a white spotted
plum growing just above
his left breast.
Suddenly, I'm holding a scalpel.
He says, "You've done this before"
and it isn't a question.
I tuck the blade into
his new skin fruit.
Neither of us wince
as clear waters pour
over his chest and
knees.
I resist the urge to taste it.
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