I have seen the robin flutter and go still, resting, in the chest of the maple tree.
I have seen the shape of a breeze, soft and fluid against my left ear, like a warm cup of water pouring over a child’s soapy hair.
I have seen my deep belly breath glow a shade of opulent white that is only visible from behind my eyes.
I have seen the hairy tips of fly foot pads, pulvilli. They bead my knee skin with landing zones and perch on my white thigh hairs. Their feet stutter while they suck the salt and oil from my skin. The flies leave behind cold droplets of sensation. It is like being tapped by iced needles, it does not hurt, only surprises.