I will touch myself and find comfort
in the softness of my own body.
These folds and corners,
soft and smooth
show that I live,
My body creases over itself
so that I may feel my self.
to make my comparisons
to pillows, and satin.
To the contented dog lying by the fire,
the jaguar for whom skin has no meaning beyond survival.
To the women before me who have fought to be comfortable.
I am not a rock.
My skin is not steel,
my muscles not wood.
I will hold myself
and feel the life that runs through this vessel.
The heat in the furnace that keeps me breathing.
Thank you for sharing such a personal piece of your heart, of your mind, a fragment one can hold to remember that as long as these sensations exist, we are moving forward, we are living, we breathe and deserve space 🖤