Then I move forward into, still, another view,
which is an inverse view of the world.
I touched a skeleton around--
I'm sorry, Ron.
I touched the flesh around the skeleton
letting my hand follow its curves.
I grasp it firmly in places, caress it where I should,
probe with my fingers where I may.
I'm delighted by the feel of flesh,
and its contours, its depths, its wetness, warmth, hair,
shades of white, brown, olive.
I breathe in its subtle exhalations.
I am thankful for the skeleton that supports my body.