I went for a massage today for the first time in many years. I chose to have a shiatsu massage, and as I lay face down wincing with the pain and visualising tomorrow’s bruises, I remembered my experience with acupuncture years ago, and the poem that it inspired.
If I can take time out to return to the masseur on a regular basis, I may even find the mental space to write something new. In the meantime, here’s something old:
Continue reading “alternative medicine”
don't confuse the narrator 