The First Knot

Steamed mirror,

the hot skin prickles,

drying off the water,

my reflection hazy.

And then, there it is,

this small, tight circle,

a hollow in the center

of everything.

It's a knot, isn't it?

Pulled tight at the start,

then cut clean, left

to heal into this strange

small indentation.

Everyone has one.

A first severing.

A tiny monument

to where we began,

still tethered,

but by nothing.