Movements

The quick twitch of my finger
meaning something quite new to me now,
Gentle crease of my forehead
in the moment before I sit down,
I graze hairs on my belly
thinking thoughts that I won’t say out loud,
Rush this air through my nostrils
as my small way of making a sound.
Now I find myself running
just as fast as my feet will allow –
Will you be there to greet me?
shout my name, wave hello… show me round?