Body

Where are you now?
Stop.
And feel your feet.
Sitting? Standing?
Is the floor pushing up on them?
Are they covered up? Socks? Shoes? Warm? Cold?
I forget to think of this body I have, this here.
I forget to check up on it and see how it is.
Aches, sure, they’ll call my attention.
But to remember when they’re not calling is a luxury of feeling.
My hand today, at rest: I could feel the skin like a glove around my bones, around my tendons. Snug, secure, resting at last from so much work.
I could feel my legs, the way this fabric feels on them even when I’m not moving.
And the wool of the sweater, how it’s different on my forearm than on my neck.
If I think about it, I can feel the weight of my hair, I can feel the roots feeling the direction the hair is pulling.
And how my tongue fills my mouth when it’s closed. So strange to have that in there all day and not even give it a thought. My jaw, I can relax my jaw.
Bit by bit, I try it out. How is my elbow? An itch. My ankles. So there.
My eyes, yes now, my everything, to rest, to rest.

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