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,


there are no


to accompany

their meaning.


My body tries

to tell me

what my mind



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


what it needs,

but I do not have

the translation

at my



And my fingers


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


to tell me?


And here

in this

gentle way,

I begin to learn

a second language.


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