It was stinging my back. And I knew it was.
With all the standing around me, no one stopped it.
The scorpion kept stinging. And I bent down. In a ball I asked him to take it off. The pain was rising.
And when he did, I slept.
And when I slept, I had a dream.
At last I had my dreams back.
I had begged my body to give me some. To give me one.
But it wouldn't. Not for months. No dreams, just mute.
When finally it forgave me and brought them back to me.
And let me in on my own little secrets.
Like scorpions stinging my back.
