I’ve been itchy lately. It’s too humid these days for it to be dry skin, and I don’t believe I’ve run afoul of any poison ivy lately, since my days of running barefoot in the woods have mostly passed me by. It’s a deeper itch, not one that mere fingernails can reach; one situated somewhere between my heart and my soul.
Maybe it’s less of an itch, come to think of it. Maybe it’s more of a deep-seated longing; the protracted realization that something has been missing; the moment right after you stand up and realize your leg has fallen asleep.