It doesn’t feel like “butterflies”
or gas bubbles.
It’s about as easy to explain
as the irrational idea
all children have
that a blanket will protect you.
It feels like you would imagine it to feel:
quick and abrupt.
Like when you see a fish break the water
ever so briefly,
then go back under,
where you cannot follow.
Like the lurch of the boat,
like your heartbeat is in your stomach.
And you feel the urge to say,