Words

Without them
I feel lost
and unready to make my way
toward meaning.

The buttons are lost,
torn from the seams and away
from the convenient places
they used to fit.

I am left
looking at the blank sky
and waiting
for the moon
to rise
so that I might remember
the rhythm and the rhyme
that spell the words
that trace each letter
into the small
of my back.

I sweat
just thinking
of the ink
that dissolves
into the flow
of blood
under
this
skin.