Earth-Shaped Boxes

Let me burst out

on all fours,

Let me crawl out on the hardness of my bones

I must get there,

and I must take it all off on the way,

Let me make a spectacle of myself.

Do you not see?

I am human,

Woman.

There must be a recall and rejection of everything that is ordered and rigidly structured

A growing of branches and stems, 

A shedding of unwanted skin and dejected emotions

Damn it,

There must even be a snapping and twisting of joints to shake off the excess of fluids and build-up.

Please, let me bend like the trees,

but let me not ever take my feet off the earth too quickly.

H.A.