your muscles begin to move without you having to think. You scuttle around the room, mind disconnected. Tracks form in the hardwood floors where your limbs trace and retrace your steps. You sense your heart jittering and your eyes rolling behind their lids but it becomes further from you. There is something enamoring in feeling your bones in your body. Clocking into the pressure inside your joints when you press against their ends; visualizing your bones in how your thighs stay straight under pressure, how your teeth attach to something below your gums. In the moments between pacing and feeling your chest twitch, you press your long fingers into the cavities around your eyes, mapping the rounding of the bone, the slight lip you feel on the other side. You feel the gap between your clavicle and scapula and between your ulna and radius. You bend your arms behind you, feeling each of the 33 bones in your spine poke up against the skin. They begin to feel sharp