Monday, October 26, 2015
or another to-do
I want to feel the icy air on my cheeks turning them bright red like summer cherries gliding above the sparkling landscape, the heat of the burner above prickling my scalp, drifting along, higher than the little brown winter birds wheeling in the breeze below.
I want to slide on my dancing shoes, clasping the buckle along my ankle, feeling that silky satin slide of my long skirt as I twirl about like the young girl it feels like I never was. I'll hear the tap-click of heels on the wood dance floor and hold my breath until some silly song comes on, then I'm going to dance like nobody's watching, for real this time.
I want to embrace that other woman-she's part of me after all-tired of being ignored and shoved down. She's the misfit, the creative visionary, the mad poet and philosophical writer, the shaman and healer, the angel of manifestation, the untapped artist. Hello there, it's been so long.
3 for now
like a genie in a bottle
but 17 more