NOSE
- Jul 24
- 1 min read
By Ann Reeg Adamson
The saying goes
Don’t cut off your nose
To spite your face
But my face is only pasted on
As a shield to my heart
Where the real spite lives
Digs
Ingrains
Like when you left me
Without the scent of your soap
The grease under your nails
The salty sea of your sweat
Bathing me in you
So screw this nose—
I’ll tear it from the mask of my face
And go on—
One sense less
In spite of you