Your questions, not your answer


My body is not a question,

but you turn each part of me into one,

then another, and another.


who, you aren’t asking me.

You form answers to the questions you make from my body.

You form them on your lips,

You form answers,

for yourself

when you walk toward or away from me.

when you tilt your head

when your mind fills with your own stories

those you made.


You are asking me,

thinking we are speaking,

still in conversation like the flow of

our blood, resonant


You are asking



Are your questions big enough

when my body is the answer.

31poemsMegan Jones