On Reliquaries

How many demands

Can you put on a body

Before it collapses under the stress?


When we met, he had tiger stripes; now I do, too.

And I like them, these fanciful scars;

They mean I’m growing…

But into what?


These past few weeks, I have not moved much –

First a broken bone, then a surgery,

Nothing major, lucky me; something routine;

A few teeth (two broken on the way out);

It’s a shock how much they slowed me down.

With all I want to do, will I be able to keep up?


It amazes me to find that is what I care about,

After years of pandering

To stereotypes, to insecurities

Blurred by the fog of habit


And it took a long time to see through them


But yes, I have found now

That I would rather soar above,

Athletic, self-determined,

Than adhere to anyone’s expectations.


I think the answer is none.


It is not our job to make demands of ourselves,

But to befriend our fragile, resilient vessels.

They open up the world to us.

They sense and do what a mind alone cannot.

They are our greatest vehicle of self-expression.

They are our first protection.


My body is beautiful, but more importantly,

It is flexible and strong,

It is complex and alive,

It is mine.


For the first time in years, I am not trapped or burdened,

Just free.