Where do I end and she begins

Sometimes I wonder if the spot is here on my skin
or the invisible halo of my scent
perhaps the length of my sight or the sound of my voice
traveling to its farthest point.
Are there cells jumping
like flees or does a breeze carry my skin on the wind?
Or rather somewhere nearer to the center
protected by the armor of skin and fat and sweat and bone.
Does it move? or instead shift?
As we grow, does it? If I were to shrink, would it?
Where am I?