Form and space: Lyrical, staccato, chaos, waltz & stillness.

Here in this space 

I am a woman.

I command worlds. 

A creature

unwilling to bend

to the demands 

of sheet music.

Instead,

a lyrical birthright;

a tempest;

the rain. 

She sees herself in the mirror 

and knows. Just. Knows. 

Knows that her limbs 

are pieces of heaven. 

Fragments of a time 

when she was so young

she could not possibly 

remember. 

But her body does. 

Here, somehow. 

The beat, the rhythm. 

The floor moving as she 

jumps and stomps

again and again. 

A form and space 

to fall apart. 

A birthing. 

A splitting in two,

Doe-like and dear. 

I'll hold you

a little closer 

when the music starts

to let you go

more and more

in the staccato.