This feeling Most tender but not in pain Not numb, or bruised But deep Strung with every fiber of my chest, neck My forehead waits I nuzzle the moments I wait
This feeling Like a womb Missing and longing to belong Yet safe Wrapped in every right Believing every instinct Desire is the music Filling every part of my space
I don’t hurt I don’t bite or move I only pray And I can’t tell if you’re inside or out But I hear you And you guide me to squirm in my own knowing Because it’s right and true And it’s something of grace
This feeling Something natural And if it had a color, it would be red And how is it that something can be both Singular and bound Suffocating and open Alive and dead
