Following the lines of the wrist
The shadows and grooves
And at a certain angle, the tendons can be seen
If you closed your fist tightly
The whites of your knuckles against flesh tones
With streaks of green blue purple
Of arteries, veins, capillaries forming a pulsing network
I like the shape of your wrists

When I swallow
My larynx constricts
There's a sharp pain at the top of my throat
I drink some water but it doesn't go away
It's as if there's an arrow through my throat
The arrow head poking out from the front
Like a pendant
You grab the end of the arrow from the back of my head
And wrenched it out