The twitching to existence
of a missing limb,
the abrupt reflex
of something not there
is not a memory;
it’s
an expectation
of the familiar.
It—or whatever
it was that was us—
is presumably unmindful
of erasure.
A part of ourselves
at that instant registers
the absence.
Spectacles too
are a limb of sorts—
part exoskeleton,
unretractable.
When they became
my body
I neither know
nor wish to.
Momentarily seeking
my likeness in the mirror
I decide to adjust them
though they aren’t there.