Her

A brief astonishment poem where damaged self-image gives way to disbelief that intimacy or recognition could still be possible.

The speaker's astonishment is layered: he is surprised not just by the woman but by the fact that surprise is still possible. The stutter, the scars, the past certainty that the world belonged to him — all are named as preconditions for a recognition that arrives despite them, not because of them.

The double commas after 'sky,,' read as a typographical stutter that mirrors the verbal one — the page itself hesitates at the moment of greatest vulnerability, as if the machine could not proceed either.