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muscle memory by Madeira Miller

June 20, 2025

Madeira Miller

muscle memory

he stood before me
a hot stove of a man
that I’d touched once
and then knew better
than to ever touch again

it’s an archaic lesson
we all learn before we’re tall enough
to reach the kitchen counter
without a stepping stool

then the years go by
a chronology of parables
often learned the hard way

don’t microwave plastic
don’t reuse the unwashed cutting board
don’t forget to turn off the stove

when my fingers brushed
against his cheek once again
I pulled away in an instant
withdrew into the safety
of my own solitude

in my twenty-fourth year
I can feel my hands
still burning

after Stanley Kunitz

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