the one where the knots
that live under your shoulder blades
are the whorled knobs on a tree trunk,

a beech tree with smooth bark,
marred with horizontal cracks,
stress made visible.

picture the knots loosening,
the stripes of stretch marks easing.
how does it make you feel?

tell me why the image of tree bark makes you cry,
why the strong planes of you are so scarred,
so scared to believe relief is possible.

as you work through this metaphor,
as it comes back, always,
to the two brightest points of pain,

visualize your hands, running down the trunk
of the tree, soothing the worry lines.
imagine setting down your burden
of questions & past harms. resting. basking.
relaxing into the stability of solid wood like

it might somehow save your life.