cranium.

begin with skin,
and descend.
to bone
and the dura,
the subdural space where she finds the stillness that allows enough room for her whole body to breathe,
the arachnoid,
and subarachnoid space,
the pia and
the gelatinous soft as jello powerhouse lives in all it's power
and vulnerability.

your hands, only for a moment, touch lightly
and my throat is strangled and my air is caught.
I try to yawn, to stretch it away from me, and I am like a dying fish, struggling for water.
the place where bees buzzed hides the impulse of agitation.
my legs kick like a downed wire.
my belly aches and pulls at my heart until there is touch to the pericardium, touch to the diaphragm, touch to the lungs.
there is a cry for help that cannot cry for help. wait.
listen. support.

after some time,
a deep yawn, a stutter, another yawn, a hestitation....
an unfolding, unraveling gather of cries swims in a golden breath.