Nine of my fingers amaze me – fluid, strong, anonymous,
But this one, this one which I stapled in a rush of stupidity
This one which now boils with infection, whose tendons are spasming in alarm
And which demands all my attention,
This one of nine is my life for now.
How inegalitarian: nine behave and serve silently, perpetually
and get no attention.
One flails, and the world immediately revolves around it.