Biting the Nail

Infinitely, a nervous reaction…

the clearing of a rusty throat,

the way she dragged her bitten nails down a smooth surface.

Sobering gestures that never quite turned off.

Frowning freckles from a belittled cough.

I began to be schooled in this manicured, depressed, mania.

It appears obvious, now.

The teacher gave herself away.

Now the student has become the teacher.

I am the disciple with a double-edged sword.

To cut through what I adore.

And, what I abhor.