The softness of my skin
Was the first thing I noticed
When I started becoming.
I ran my fingers along the arch
Of my lengthwise legs
And found the roughness
To be absent.
What once harped at my
Rigid fingers
Was now dainty and soft.
The veins along my arm
Sinking back into their sockets.
Follicles of hair still standing upright
Had become light enough
To flow with the gentle breeze.
Before they had sunk into my skin
And weighed me down.
Heavy on my heart.
Because my fingers feel different now
So too does touch.
When I grace the hollow of your back
It is as if I can now complete it.
Filling in the empty.
Before I couldn’t say the same.
Like the sun and the moon
The softness of our bodies
Both becoming.
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