52 weeks words + images | week nine

sur la pointe

Aching bones, shooting pains through the arch of my foot, toes that bruised and bled.  I was a slave to a burning pull inside that whispered, move, extend, reach, breathe, breathe, breathe. You give over your body when you dance; you allow the music to carry you to and fro like crisp leaves being evicted from trees by howling winds.  The surrender is sweet and bitter at once, a willingness to open your own veins with a smile just to let the rhythm into your blood.  The desire is not one of those which fade over time, sinking quietly back into the recesses of who we used to be.  It stays alive and present, ready to lift us up and out of whatever reality in which we’ve settled.  

 

© Jennifer Summer | 2015

© Jennifer Summer | 2015

52 weeks words + images | week eight

cage-free

He told her that her rib cage was big to accommodate the size of her heart.  Without the confines of those twenty-four ivory bars, it would take reckless flight, careening into passions that would leave a dull scar on its wings. Swooping down purposely, it would pull her along into the sinking mirrors of his eyes, part her thighs in response to the full lips that bite into her own.  Enclosure was impregnable, but less intoxicating.   And the safety is an illusion; the devastating consequence of a heart that never breaks free of its prison is that it dehydrates slowly. This heart speaks for us with brittle-boned words that turn to dust the second they leave our mouths.

 

© Jennifer Summer | 2015

© Jennifer Summer | 2015