Mending Movement

I want to take you apart.

Bit by bit, deconstructing with my mind.

Bones and skin and muscles

Take you down to your most basic components.

I want to see you stretch.

I want to coax your skin into

Letting me see. What it so often tries to hide.

A mighty shield of paper-thin cells against the outside world

But an insulator of internal pains. Pleas for help that

Can’t be answered by anyone but me.

Someone who can see.

 

Bones and skin and muscles

Pull and twist and roll,

I want to see you stretch

To take you as a whole. 

I want to reconstruct a single fluid being

Want you to feel whole

Soul in a body which no longer restricts, freeing.

 

I want you to be lyrical

Each movement another line in your poetry

I want to remove the syllable and rhyme restrictions

Fill your pen with a rainbow of ink, fully and totally

 

I want to take you apart

And put you back together again

I want see you dissected on paper, names of bones and muscles and glands

Look at the layers and find where the bookworms

Have chewed away at attempted expression.

Restore fluidity and meaning to areas the world has damaged

And your body tries to hide away.

 

An addiction to beauty,

Disastrously obsessed with the miracle of movement.

Dreams from the ballet bar

Will one day manifest themselves as

The ability to detangle dances from twisted muscles and bruised bones.

 

I want to give back control over a complex network,

That the body will never reveal.

I want to soothe. I want to repair.

I want to heal.

I want to see them dance and feel and be free.

I want to live through their every twirl and stroll.

Pretend that each patient I can mend

Is me. 

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