I’m reading

all the books

and somehow

I don’t have

all the answers.

 

There’s a pinch

in my heart,

a weight

on my chest,

and the thump

in its cages,

yet

there are no

words

to accompany

their meaning.

 

My body tries

to tell me

what my mind

cannot

and

when I listen

with my logic,

I cannot understand

a thing.

I only hear

and feel

the pinch,

the weight,

the thump:

and like a foreign language,

it is telling me

exactly

what it needs,

but I do not have

the translation

at my

fingertips.

 

And my fingers

though

they slip

across my arms,

the softness

of my skin

raised up

with its gentle hairs,

dunes scattered

‘cross the sand

caught in a rhythm

of ocean’s wind.

 

What do they have

to say

I ask

what is

my body

trying

to tell me?

 

And here

in this

gentle way,

I begin to learn

a second language.