My body is a 
hall of hum.
I lie still.
This is not deep percussion 
of my heart,
rhythmic rushing 
blood in my veins,
wind instrument of my breath,
reverberation of my guts.
The sound of numb is subtle.

Tactile information 
objects, clothing, fingertips
on skin sensors 
soft, cold, scratch, pressure,
bump, buzz, prick.
I listen.
Solid stimulus speaks touch.
I remember sensation,
but my neurons don’t make 
the right noise.
 
I feel fingernail drag 
on skin muted,
muffled.
Whisper, scrape, watch.
Wanting touch memory to 
amplify stifled signals.
The nurse’s instructions:
“Rest and monitor.”
 								
Electrical waves 
echo through me. 
Harmonious
dissonant
hum undulates
foot, chest, thigh, cheek
untraceable
asymmetrical
nervous system symphony
simultaneous singular
moving in and above
my neural pathways.