and it’s inner cohorts. It might seem strange
to mention this particular sensation, not sedation,
the carousel of pinpricks under my skin, streaks of heat
then shivers, and an unusual sense of treacle, sweetness
that pours to the minuscule ends of my capillaries.
To live, to feel, to be human is so raw,
and I know I’ve been alive for almost three decades,
but suddenly it’s all very real, unmasked,
without an eating disorder or drugs, I’m emotionally naked,
physically present and becoming accustomed
to the things that make me distinctly human.