Part 14 of the 26-part series called "Napowrimo 2019"

Your hands are full of pain, like rocks are full
of stillness. The bones in them are the rocks
in a bag tumbling around each other. Eventually
they will smooth each other out, eventually they
will be all smooth like river stones passed over
by fish every morning, hardly noticed, and never
by the fish. You try to be like the fish, to pass
over the bones in your hand like they’re not
the foundation of the world, to go on your fishy
business without thinking, eyes to either side,
but it’s hard, you admit it. Still, you keep trying.
The water is cold and you can’t escape it. No
child is coming by any time soon to choose a rock
to skip across the water. You are stuck with yourself
for the time being, which is all of it that’s left.