Under the bright lights
I've been here before many times,
standing, waiting.
My hands clasped,
a sigh,
finally asleep.
I take the blade,
the first cut,
through layers
into the dark cavity.
Lights hit for the first time
that which was dark,
inside it is clean, smooth,
unblemished.
The one spot is excised,
rinsed, suctioned,
stitched together.
One again, better.