They say the body has a memory

places where maps aren't needed,
but I could never follow directions

getting lost almost expected.

Places where maps aren't needed:

your hands, the small indentation between

throat and breastbone

getting lost almost expected

taking pleasure in the scenic route.

Your hands, the small indentation between

throat and breastbone

waking up my memory's hills and valleys of longing

taking pleasure in the long scenic route

an arduous climb to trust, the slide into forgiveness

curving just out of sight, a home I never knew.

Waking up my memory's hills and valleys of longing

an arduous climb to trust, the slide into forgiveness

curving just out of sight, a home I never knew

map or compass of no use in the territory.

An arduous climb to trust, the slide into forgiveness

then forgetting a man you are not

and remembering the woman I am.

Map or compass of no use in this territory,

but they say the body has a memory.