Photo by Maria Orlova from Pexels

Ah yes, those bleary-eyed hours when my feet ache,
my shoulders pull, my neck perches like a wire — tense and pulsing,
hunger hums through me like a white noise,
backbone stretching, straightening, falling again with my breath
into the cradle of my center.

I’m bony, too bony, perhaps,
but…

--

--