Sadness I would scribble on my limbs on my pupils.
Sadness I would write on every finger, and fingertip,
every swirl and line on my hand.
On every contour and crevice, along every scar.
Sadness I would write down my thighs and on the pout of my bottom lip.
Sadness in every language that ever breathed.
Sadness in languages ancient and languages dead.
Sadness.
Until my body a scroll
