02.21.01

the marvelous twiggle has offered to make me beautiful. she is wonderful, and besides that she has truly fantastic hair. i'm feeling an over-fondness of superlatives this morning.

today is national body issues day. that's actually a complete lie. i have no idea whether or not it is national body issues day, or even if such a thing exists, but for the purpose of this entry, there is. and it's today. moving right along, here we have:

my body is powerful. muscles ripple in my legs, glint in my arms, stretch luxuriously through my back. this vessel is mine and i claim it, the rounded curves and shadows of my breasts, the peculiarly persistent bristly hairs on my belly, the scars i have worn onto the dusky skin.

my belly is round, fertile, creative. it holds ideas when my mind can store no more. my eyes, a rapidly shifting golden brown, are alternately hard and angry, or soft and inquisitive. the stubborn, spare lines of my lips. the thick, marked eyebrows. i have hair that could make ropes or be woven into clothes for an infant. my hips are firm and wide. they are a cradle of creation and rebirth. my ass is round, alert, coiled to spring. these are the ways i love my body.

i do not love my body. i have turned the mirrors in my house to face the walls so that i do not have to witness this clumsy stranger who has taken over my form. she lumbers heavily, like a cow, and her face is devoid of any animation.

i cannot find the coiled spring, the velvet brown, the creative wellspring within this creature. she carries too much on her body, fat like storage shelves adorning her torso, back, and thighs. there is no spring in her step. she turns in on herself while standing, as if to erase her presence. she constantly had a hand in front of her mouth, apologizing.

nobody knows how she got this way.

her mother, like the sea crashing against cliffs, has worn a pattern into her heart, and although she often tries to reroute or deconstruct it, it merely pools into a tepid swamp about her hips.

memories live in the body.

***

xoxo,

moonbird

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