Sensory Integration – Christine E. Ray

when my brain goes haywire
I think I must have developed
late-onset sensory integration disorder
the sun burns my eyes
the birds chirp their Spring songs
much too loudly for me
other’s coffee
which I usually covet
overwhelms me with its roasted aroma
I admire the way that liberated
warm weather dresses swing down Locust walk
rayon, silk, satin, linen drape beautifully
make their wearers walk with confidence
I like the feel of these fabrics
against my fingertips
but am only able to tolerate
utilitarian cotton knits
against my back
my stomach
thighs
my skin
now a single exposed nerve
perceives anything else
as sandpaper
rubbing me raw
the acupuncturist palpates
my numb right leg
looking for the best place
to insert the hair thin needle
in hopes of returning sensation
to my errant limb
her fingertip finds a meridian point
so excruciatingly painful
on the inside of my knee
I practically levitate
off the table
she smiles broadly
as she announces, “We have a winner!”
Indeed