The Other One

I was on the phone,

signing the lease renewal,

right hand on the pen.

I looked down.

My left hand had the table edge—

knuckles white, tendons raised.

No memory of gripping.

No instruction.

The voice on the phone kept going.

The right hand kept signing.

I watched the left one

the way you watch a stranger

doing something you recognize.

I don't know when it started.

I don't know what it had decided

before I noticed.