Connective Tissue

I don’t want to be reminded
of how the body’s put together.

Instead, I want to go back
to the days where standing up,
or walking were thoughtless activities.
Where there was no thought
to how muscle and bone
are held together
by connective tissue.
No thought to tendons, ligaments,
and sinew. No thought
to how a wrong step,
or turn of ankle, or turn
of wrist can send a signal
to the brain that the bones
sit too loose in their place
and move in ways
they’re not supposed to.

I never wanted to study anatomy,
or physiology, or to know
the correct or incorrect coding
of our DNA. But I always did
want to write. To have something
to say that might make sense
to somebody who’s out there
reading someday.
To try and explain
what’s happening to a body
in disarray, but instead,
I only seem to wax poetic
in the presence of disease,
and not to make light of it,
but maybe, to at least,
turn it into something it isn’t.

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