#bodily memory

TICONDEROGABite marks first—the old Ticonderoga Number Twocarried them still,a nub of shedding pink for an eraser,a dull lead point.I picked it upand it fit comfortablyin my hand,the gouged bodyperfectly matching my bite,the flaking yellow paintand varnish overcoatthat neededto be spit outwith every crunch—its woodstill on my tongue.ThenI broke itcleanly in the middle.