Counting

[image error]

Last night, I stood

In the shower, counting

The inches between my ribs and my hips.

Only two.

I ran my fingertips along

The flared bone hidden

Beneath my skin, startled by how high

They’ll cut.

In my mind, I’d

Imagined somewhere else, further

Down where it couldn’t be seen

In public.

Looking ahead, to

Swimsuits and tank tops, I’m

Not sure if I’ll be proud or ashamed of

My scar.

Last night, I stood

In the shower, counting

The syllables of my condition and operation.

Twelve each.

Post-lateral acetabular dysplasia....