how easily the un-ease slips, scary how well I know it now, an old etcetera met with an almost-warmth because it is so much a part of my own body, a familiarity, that is, familiar in my own skin, just a swimming in my gestures. just a shift every so often, for I have not settled. just a bird perched in the center of my chest and I cannot open it --

I have been 

interrupted and re-visited with no 

                  memory of how I 

                  began.