(base of spine, top of head,
liquid light darting up and down)
I can let go of others
(hunching of neck and shoulders,
slouching of general frame)
and feel the space
opening up between
And I realize
whatever shape I thought was me
was just a way of holding,
and this is another one,
with a very different shape.
And as for me, it seems
I am not my shape at all
but the one that holds it,
or maybe, more truly,
the one that is held.
©Wendy Mulhern
January 12, 2017
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