(no subject)
When did you become this creature, half in and half out? The duality of you is baffling. Are you the woman who is tending house, digging your fingers into the soil with your husband to make something grow? Are you the beast with panicky thoughts, fingers curled tight around your wrist, nails digging in? These things are too different to be whole. A bottle filled with extra virgin olive oil and inky black vinegar.
Maybe a bottle, but maybe a test tube. It is too easy to forget that you are an incredibly nuanced chemical reaction because you don't feel like a girl so full of pills that she would rattle when shaken. You feel mostly normal, except when you don't.
You let yourself go. The phrase means more now than it ever has. You let yourself go from a tightly coiled girlchild into a woman who stretches out on her back when she sleeps, one knee cocked, bare toes seeking the coolest part of the sheets. You let yourself go, let yourself wander, into a place which is quiet with sunlight filtering through clean linen onto dark wood floors. Let yourself go like a breath in the clear winter night, your hand intertwined with his in his coat pocket to keep the tips of you from burning with cold. You let yourself run into his arms, throwing your arms around his neck and nuzzling your face into the sweetest skin behind his ear. You let him drag you like a corpse, pull you like a kicked dog on the end of a lead, fight you like you're a feral cat, and finally you let yourself go to him, unabsolved but human at last. You let yourself doze late into the morning and sample anything you desire to have on your lips, from bitter dark chocolate to the sweetest thing you've ever tasted: his warm skin trembling as you kiss him on more than just his mouth.
You willingly let slip the rope tying your hands to your skeleton and let him heal into someone unrecognizable from the fawn with knees wider than her thighs.
So why falter? There is no way that you were a better being then than you are now. There is no reason to crave a body like a worry stone (with a hollow in the middle to place your thumbs).