scoliosis ovenbird When you reach the valley between the peaks of my shoulder blades you will find that the path from occiput to coccyx veers off course, bending bone into the shape of a question that is asked and left unanswered. I was a sapling, supple but starving, deforming my body in search of sun. I was a stray dog stretching, in want of gentle hands to run over the silkiest parts of me. Desire makes a contortionist of us all. I was twisted by the weight of waiting to be seen, my toes almost touching the crown of my head. So if you try to walk the road to my atlas vertebra, you will find yourself swept off course, where I hope your fingers will get lost in the wilderness, and never leave. 250819 what's it to you? who go blather from