TO A TOENAIL

Dorsal plate gone awry
atop the hallux of my left
foot, the one red
with embarrassment, that’s right,
you, you who serve no purpose,
like a wisdom tooth turned
inward, or the coccyx,
that vestigial tail, claw
of keratin curled into
the pulp of my big toe,
waking me with that familiar
dull ache, correct yourself,
acquire a sliver of virtue
instead of invading your host
as if that would make
you necessary once again.
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