Screaming, whispering.

I push the skin on my neck back and forth, the notches on my spine sway with the movement of my left hand.

Here in the dark I feel the pull and strain upon every muscle

The mass of hair upon my head feels different, more distinct

I marvel at the wide assortment of textures

to be found on my skin.

There is a special kind of holiness found in the secrets that our bodies keep from ourselves.