Surgery

“Free Tablet”. I could use a free tablet. I should be able to begin with the simplest things, if not with objects on the table then with some words that have descended from the light air of this roughly bright morning. Nothing that can be felt on the skin, unless I attend very closely. I am not sure that I have that level of attentiveness. Voices, birds, cars, doors and the rest. Everything is growing though it is nearing late Autumn. All the flowers of an ignorant Spring. Seems like I have a great deal to do, that I am neglecting many little tasks. In the midst of my neglect, her face has changed. The lumpy awkwardness of it, which was her particular beauty, has been replaced by an anonymous symmetry. Why this attraction to surgery when it does nothing but highlight the traces of age? Lines are more pointedly visible in their absence. I have passed away again. I am distracted. How can I be sure that I wouldn’t do the same thing?