There is nothing like a chapped mouth
of two lips
not fully cracked, but not so smooth you lose them in a soft face
to the fuzz on an upper lip
or the curve of a chin
or lose the corners where the lips meet to form a cheek.
I have forgotten about the smell of hair
of pillowcase or worn shirt.
the warm dent in the bed
or how to move a hand so slowly
hovering over skin and pores
that it becomes unsteady
heavy, overwhelming
clumsy
This too is lost
How to outline the body with my fingertips
the ear like a sea shell
the back like Kansas with both hands flat
the legs like each side of a hollow California redwood
the feet like tired pedestals
the arms already outlining me.
