True Size of Love

Move, she said. 
Give me space.
See.
See who I am now. 
Look at me with fresh eyes and still yet with the eyes of long knowing, recognition.

This is it.
All of me.
Take it all. Or nothing, She said.

I can bear the constraints no longer. The double-binds and the outrageous cacophony of what it should look like and how it should be.

Move.
Give me space.
Let me find my true size of love.

So she danced. 
She danced until her feet ached. 
Until her heart was in her throat. 
And her hair, matted and wild flew as sweat dripped into every crevice and curve.

In her wild consumption, in her madness of reclamation, the earth opened itself unto her. Consumed her and transformed her. The heavens poured its light and rain down her back and into her ears.

Until she touched a seed. Long buried deep inside. 
Silence.

Move, it whispered. 
Give me space.

And then once more, like the crocus of spring, she rose. Innocent in her fresh green eyes seeing as if for the first time, this ridiculous, miraculous, life.

L. C. S.

photo: Jessica Christie Photography