Mind naked in the morning,
Upon awakening, I am who I am.
Immediate chatter starts with
“You are awake”
Beginning its constant commentary
On my life.
Next — armor. Piling on
First, weather check:
To lament or to rejoice?
Next — body. Never perfect,
Always lacking, need help.
Too fat too thin, hair too short too long.
Gut rumbling, bladder bursting,
Eyes glued, palms sweating, heart thumping.
Must conceal behind
Next — stories. I am your
Mother, wife, doctor, lawyer, preacher, CEO,
Wealthiest woman alive! That’s who!
Proof? Plasma-screen high-definition life-sized information-altar,
A Porsche, Cristal on Delta, Four Seasons preferred club.
That’s who! Strong, confident, winning.
An armadillo, a rhinoceros, that’s who.
This suit is unbearable. It makes me sweat.
It blinds me. It prevents me.
It protects me… from what?
I can barely see you, straining,
Breaking under your armor.
We are afraid of each other’s daggers,
Of each other’s spears.
Of each other’s tears?
Close my eyes, feel my breath,
Slow my mind, see you clearly.
Peel the armor, layer by tedious layer.
Put each layer on the shelf.
No, toss it into the ocean. Burn it!
Here I stand, arms at my sides,
Heart open, soul humming.
Put down your daggers,
Take off your armor,
Put it on a shelf
Or in the ocean
Or in the fire.
Take my hand,
Walk with me,