| RIPPLE
“I can’t move,”
she said.
“I’m frozen solid,
locked inside
myself.
Contorted
from the pain,
of trying
to be
who they told me
to be.
I’m knotted
in confusion,
in history,
in uncertainty.
Look at this world!
Look at me!
Will it ever
feel okay!?”
Her throat opens,
she screams.
Just then,
all of the sudden,
a jolt
disrupts the tightness.
A wave wells up
from inside
— before thought —
tiny at first;
just a ripple.
An undulation,
flows through
her flesh;
ancient,
aquatic.
A deep sigh.
Pleasure.
Movement rises
without intent.
It comes from
her animal body,
from wind,
from earth,
from water.
The iceblock
of self-contortion
melting, melting.
The story of
I-am-less-than-whole
melting, melting.
Together In Motion
|
