These movements that seem to move themselves
with a grace that hides the strength
that brings ease of movement as we manipulate ourselves
into achieving what should be impossible.
The lines of the body extended far past the center, the core,
the baseline, what the textbooks say is normal
–but I think we just might
create our own homeostasis.
Are the boundaries of our bodies absolute,
or only a suggestion?
A dare from our ancestors,
to see what we are capable of…
…I never could refuse a dare…
Do the lines of my body define me,
or is it only the outline of my meat suit?
Do the limits of my body describe my potential?
If my core expands invisibly across creation
and my physical self is confined, contained, constrained,
here, now—but there is no separation, no divide,
my body is not a car I drive around in,
it is me and
I cannot distance myself from myself.
The given parameters are no longer acceptable.
I will fight every constraint
and cross every boundary I am given
or give to myself.
I’ve always toed the line,
daring myself to cross
and am exhausted from the effort
of holding myself back.
I’ve always enjoyed lost causes
but this has become an exercise in wasted effort.
If the past is a memory and the future a dream,
the present is what I hold in my hands right now.
And now. And now. And
I don’t want to be held responsible for
precedents set in my before.
I want to tell the story again.
I want to tell my story again.
Present tense.
