the leafs were on fire. which is what i feel like. blowing gently in the breeze, becoming transparent and allowing the light of the sun to shine through me. illuminating me. the shadows dark, and the light glowing so bright. you might think it's my haircut, but it's different. it's in my hips when i walk and dance.
i walk through frick park with ghosts and demons. ex-boyfriends, depression, shadows, insecurities, and the warmth of old friends. memories of first kisses, holding hands, and also the silence that grows between two people as they walk when they no longer have anything to talk about. getting lost in the park after dark and making out. feeling out of place growing up around so many rich people. the day that i quit my job downtown. the walk i took that first snowfall my senior year of high school at midnight and the moon shining on the snow turned the world into a fantasy. it's all buried there under the wet ground. and as i walk the path, my presence brings these things back to life to dance around me and tempt me - but when i am strong, i can face them - greet them, flirt with them, and then beat them back into the ground with each step on the path.
time has passed again. something is next. and the otis redding 45 is spinning around the record player in my living room - and he's singing a gospel song. and i feel resurrected. reborn. back from the dead. alive. it's in my hips, and my haircut, it's in the secrets i keep, in the incense burning. it's a silent and soulful amen.
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