God granted grace,
my soul expressed in my hands.

Fingers stroking gently,
and pressing firmly,
in familiar patterns
on a familiar body
(all bodies are familiar,
though some release gasps,
and sing, and wheeze
on different keys)

When the silence in the aftermath settles,
our bodies still vibrating,
a question lingers in the air:

Why do we close our eyes
when we feel the most?