Kneading

for Arif

the blunt nub of his elbow pressed

deep in a knot in my neck my god you are so fucking tense he said

it took great effort to force my body into a relaxed pose and hold it there

while he worked to knead the stress out of my flesh

convinced it would be easy to untangle me

pressure + angle + technique

regular massage twice maybe even three times a week

he won’t find what he’s looking for

in my body

none of my spots are sweet

his feeling (of) me

an exercise in futility

I let him think he had released all of the worry

I feel so much better I said your hands are magic

as the tension in me screeched underneath

his thumbprints left behind in red

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