“But I don’t know anyone like that ,” she said.
Smiling deeply into her eyes, I reply
“You know me.”
But she will not believe, needing
to be different from the people
she serves; needing an accomplice
to her invention of superiority.
“But, you were never like them,” she gasped.
The meaning clear: she held herself separate from
the people she treated and I, another acupuncturist,
must be like her, not like “them.”
“Addiction is subject to degrees,” I say.
“We all have a void. We all crave a return
to paradise, to the womb.
We all need a fix.
We all need.”
“But, you didn’t steal and lie and…”
she unable to say more.
Searching deeply into her eyes
I employ a visceral knowledge.
“How much tea have you drank today?” I say.
“Can you stop drinking tea?”
“But tea is good for you.” she murmured.
Nodding, I turn to put needles in the ears of
the Seekers of the Womb
the Cravers of Perfection Never Found.
Those who Need and Know They Need.
“Them”
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