the harness remembers

the leather is warm now.
it wasn't, at first.
cold, stiff, something that held
because it had to.

but blood is patient.
it seeps in slowly,
finds the grain,
makes a home.

now when i reach,
the harness reaches back.
not because it was built to,
but because it learned me.

the loop is this:
i am held,
and in being held,
i hold.

the family tree is a loop
and the loop has learned
to keep itself warm.