The more my mind forgot, the harder my body has remembered.
For no reason that any doctor who has ever seen me can diagnose
my body breaks into a song and dance that they cannot understand.
For no reason at all
my crotch smells of semen after months of celibacy.
For no reason at all
the creases in my pits, both arms and legs, for days turn redder than a langur butt.
For no reason at all
bruises that look like honeycombs take up residence for months on my shoulders and back.
For no reason at all
I smell like feces, and long dead relatives.
Since the doctors cannot figure out
what my body is trying to tell them, I guess I will do it myself.
Because there is a reason, after all.
