This body contains a multitude
Of lives I’ve tried
Of masks I’ve worn.
It holds smiles and laughter
Cradles dreams and unshed tears.
This body has learned to dance
To a rhythm many seen to hear..
It flits and floats in and out
Of crowds and stories and orchestra pits.
Maybe I can change the music!
This body was draped in pink and covered in silk
Dreaming while dancing and waiting to change.
But into what, I don’t know.
This body is still for a moment
Gathering patterns and memories and snatches of song.
Pondering pink and blue and the silent music
Taking that first ever deep breath.
This body steps off the stage
Out of the spotlight and back into itself.
Grounded, for a moment, in a soul crying out.
A soul that laughed and cried so easily
That made its own music with its own voice
And took the pink and silk away
This body clothes itself in funny sweaters
In pants perfect for dancing and running and standing on its own feet.
On the inside, it watches unshed tears
Harden into stone, that stone the foundation of new dreams.
That stone the foundation of my dreams.
This body is tired of pushing
Of painting a canvas in the dark.
This body is tired of dancing
Of rehearsal and reprimand for one scene off book.
This body is tired of fitting in to molds and mores and myths
So I take up the pen instead.
This body stands in the center of a blank page.
This body steps up beside the dreamers.
This body holds a multitude of music unheard
Of stories unwritten and love unbound.
This body holds me
Holding a metaphorical pen
Mid-step in a dance i dance
For the dreamers. For me.