It begins slowly:

a tingling on my skin

a fluttering in my chest

poetry begins to fall from my lips

My body wakes up,
limb by limb

muscles and sinew becoming fluid,
pushing and pulling as one
until… ah, there – just now,
they beg me to dance

like that old familiar routine

that feeling of home

Then my soul rushes in,
full of hymns and lust and
nectar, a fierce thing

And, at last

I am filled up.
I am wild.
I am new.

(How brave I am
with you by my side!)

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