It felt so right — there on my arm
as if a nurse had not fastened it on the rounds.
As if my soul had been left in that room with its carbolic
and ether — floated to the ceiling with no attempt to get back.
You said Let’s get rid of this and circled my wrist,
slowly drew my arm to its length. Your warmth as you snipped
that which had grown under my skin.
Wes Lee lives in New Zealand. Her latest collection By the Lapels was launched in Wellington (Steele Roberts Aotearoa 2019). Her work has appeared in Best New Zealand Poems, Westerly, Poetry London, Australian Poetry Journal, among others. Most recently she was awarded the Poetry New Zealand Prize 2019 by Massey University Press.