The Night We're Not Sleeping In

"Reading these poems is an uncanny experience. . . . We enter into this book alert to possibility, and leave knowing how asleep we've been."—Nick Flynn

Of all the meanings of exposed I think my favorite is the raw nerve shivering bug-like in the lamp light while the surgeon arranges his dainty knives.
You can get close to that. You can brush its wriggling limb and hear the scream.
You can lie there on the table, say,
"little nerve oh nerve it'll be all right; there there, there there.