a nick on his wrinkled face
that doesn't stop bleeding.
Held by a piece of tissue in place.
His hairline receding.

I'll be
the hemorrhoid in his pants
that doesn't stop growing.
He talks in slants.
The probity not showing.

I’ll be
a floating eyelash in his almond eye
that doesn't stop making him blink.
An elephant stain on his square tie,
the spilled splotch of ink.

I'll be
the throbbing headache
that doesn't stop pounding.
He cannot shake
that which is bounding.