she says,
holding her arm up,
showing me
an angry
red sore, oozing
with some sort
gelatinous
goo.
does this look infected
to you?
i rear back my head
and tell her,
too close, too close,
pushing her arm
away from me.
sit tight and don't move
an inch, i tell her.
let me get my medical
bag
and rubber gloves.
don't scratch it.
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