Crunchy, But Good

I lay
on the table, her hands
working my back
and the lumps that form
from every day stress.

Sometimes I name them.
"Ah…that one's Georgia, the daughter.
Oh… that one's Jack, the son,
and goodness, that's got to be
the current project,
the one with the looming deadline."

"No matter," she said.
"The body needs tension.
Otherwise, it falls down to the ground,
a pile of bones and yuck."