inside my body every breath has touched.

inside my body a lion’s share of faces called close to feast.

inside my body, every thirst, every storm, every doubt.  every boat.

inside my body the summer skin like talcum earth.  then she moved away.

inside my body each hurt who sits with a thread wrapped ankle-round.

inside my body fear, fear when she said, no more.

inside my body whispers kept.  yes, I do remember you.

inside my body, scissors & fingertips, a little here, a little there.  some images remain, even when gone.

inside my body lightning thought.  water washes me.

inside my body the texture of every thing and everybody I have touched.

inside my body the creases of sheets.  head to toe to you.

inside my body everything I think smart, even when I’m not.

inside my body each flirting glance.  evidence why watches have second-hands.

inside my body every rain and tear and every kiss.  thus, these crops, these shared meals.

inside my body a template that makes my fingers write.

inside my body left & right & sometimes flight.  honestly.

inside my body blinks that resemble bricks, like a wall.  make mine mud.

inside my body, memories.  all of them.  all of you.

inside my body my sense of time.  but, I forget.

inside my body, theft.  one best measure nearly lost.  then you.  then me.

inside my body peace they say.  inside my body joy they say.

inside my body you speak loudest.

here, these poems in red.  only some few.  and this prayer, where I am falling right now.
 
 
neil reid © 2015 october