from Migraine: Aura and Aftermath
by Claudia Emerson
First, part of the world disappears. Something
is missing from everything: the cat's eye,
ear, the left side of its face; . . .
. . . My arm
goes numb, my leg. Though I have felt the cold air
of this disappearance before, each time the aura
deceives me to believe reality itself
has failed . . .
. . . Then, in the relieved
wake of the day that follows it, I will
find my hand, count my fingers, and beginning
to see again, will recognize myself
restored to the evening of a righted room.
Posted over on A Person Named Eunice
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