We dance soft, contained, closed-
-careful not to show.
We are safe within the lines.
Seeping out between the cracks,
coming to the surface,
are the real colors:
Wild. Beautiful. Broken.
Courage is in the simplicity:
bare feet on wood,
air in our lungs,
-a tiny beating-
a calling deep within our bones.
We dance imperfect and raw,
our bodies finding the voice that shouts to be heard.
We dance freedom, vulnerability;
the struggle of sunrise.
Unraveling,
we let ourselves be seen.
We throw, crash, release, open.
I feel your hand grab my arm,
and the way you hold me sews my heart together.
We are one.
We are separate.
Pulling back each piece
from the animals,
humanity,
the stars,
we are humbled by what we’ve created,
by each other,
ourselves.
Sweet things have no words,
only nods and sharp giggles
over gasping for water.
In these moments
I know there is something more.