When you take a breath, are you satisfied?
Hands and. Fingers, that touched like ragged silk.
Maybe it was you.
What scars do we hide? How do I hold my hands?
Palm up, or down? Choices can be this much small.
My presence will be erased by wind and rain, like
a mountainside gives itself away to remembering.
By eyes I see. By touch, I know who I am.
What are my sins? Another name for sin is lie.
Pretending I am not you.
What feast is this? Dare we speak aloud, “I am beautiful”.
Did you mean it? Do I?
We are visible by virtue of light. No matter how sensitive,
no light, no sight.
Be the Light.
wordswerepoemsfirst.com 
Love this from beginning to end. Wanted more, but knew that was silly. So just sat still, went back and read it again, ending with that same feeling. Mine not yours. Thank you.
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Oh Elizabeth your response is much generous. You made my morning! Thanks for reading me.
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