cramp

Muscles, I think they’re muscles

Curling like vines, some kind of vines

To crunch the bones, or maybe tendons

In each water-starved foot.

To spend one’s whole life

Having a physical experience

One cannot be bothered to understand. 

Someday it will get worse

And like all disasters

Will reveal all.

Lately I suspect that everyone else

Is getting a diagnosis.

But brave little I

Never scheduled the MRI.