Nude Confidence
Lovers feel no fear in the dark
Welcome, and a warm first hello to the newcomers!
I’m so happy you’re here.
This week, we swing around for a second look at The Lovers. This tarot card represents coming-of-age and inner harmony; it is a celebration of our ability, as humans, to make choices about personal relationships.
The last time we talked about The Lovers, it was close to Valentine’s Day of this year, and I was still exploring different styles of poetry. You can read that post here:
Lately, in my own life, this card represents my choice to take control of who gets access to my time and my feelings.
It was hard to learn how to set adult boundaries, and it continues to be a strange journey toward learning exactly what boundaries are right for me.
Have you had any memorable experiences setting boundaries in your life? I invite you to share your story in the comments!
Contents:
Luckiest Ancestors
Apple Wall
Old Haunts
Playdates
Scoliosis
Medusa
Luckiest Ancestors
We come from our luckiest ancestors:
The ones who did not trip on exposed roots,
Who thought to put a lock upon the door,
And, also, a small window, to look through.
We traveled down long strands of DNA:
Hand over hand, feet firm upon the rungs,
We clambered, G and T and C and A,
To form the bodies that we would become.
We are the studio remix of those
Who looked both ways before they crossed the street,
The cover songs that everybody knows,
Because of how they use the old-school beats.
A penny, on the street, catches your eye:
The year is nineteen-hundred-twenty-five.
Apple Wall
I worked like a young Olympic athlete
To wrestle goodness from where I began:
I taped my ankles, ignored all my needs,
And scattered sweet apple seeds as I ran.
One day, I slowed my feet down to a stroll,
Peeked over my shoulder. To my wonder:
A legion of tall apple trees, so bold,
Extending worshipful branches forward.
Such leafy limbs, intertwined, verdant wall;
A shield from all the monsters of the past;
Bright and lush, bearing fruit offered to all;
A sturdy barrier that’s made to last.
The day finally came: I could sit down,
Take off the ankle tape, and look around.
Old Haunts
How much did it cost to get myself clean?
Just a tiny bit! Let’s check line items:
Ten years of parsing out which parts of me
I want to keep, which should flee with the wind.
One father, one mother, and one brother;
A loose handful of cousins, uncles, aunts.
(Green Mountain State makes me run for cover:
I never go to visit my old haunts.)
As many one night stands as grains of sand
On beaches, like the ones found far away
From those rocky shores making up my hand.
(Bad self-esteem made me an easy lay.)
I fed the healing beast. I paid my toll.
(I’m just glad that I got to keep my soul.)
Playdates
One ordinary day, a sudden thought:
My instinct is to shut out other folks
With headphones, books, and TV, all I’ve got.
But, why do people feel like overdose?
I think it’s because when I was a child,
I didn’t get to choose my social time:
Forced into surprise playdates, which felt wild,
And uncontrolled, like my life was not mine.
I craved some peace and quiet, time to read,
Some space to settle, to collect my thoughts;
After, maybe, I might have felt the need
To socialize as folks felt that I ought.
These days, I surround myself with those ones
Who understand that quiet can be fun. 
Scoliosis I have pretty intense scoliosis. (My spine: she looks just like a curly fry.) The day that someone who could help saw this Was so embarrassing: wanted to die. The school did a routine check on us all: A nurse’s finger, up and down the back, Seeking rectitude: she let her face fall, Then handed me a note about my lack. X-ray scared my mom so damn bad, that she Did not think I should get to look at it. But: that was my sweet body, that was me, And it has always been a gorgeous gift. I wore the brace, I did the work. I’m fine. Being a little different’s not a crime.
Medusa
Medusa would not let the sky conquer.
So powerless: the clouds, before her face.
Do not be fooled by hateful old sculptors:
Medusa carried her body with grace.
A casual glance her way shows the moon,
But, closer inspection reveals her snakes:
Her twisting tresses, woven protection;
Such brazen proof that she’s got what it takes.
Medusa watches: she is a record;
A compilation of the will of men;
A yearbook of how women can suffer;
A towering, brutalist museum.
History says a great many things, yes,
But, she would tell you: snakes mean that you’re blessed. Please consider a small donation to my fundraiser to support the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention.
I will be walking to raise funds for AFSP this October to celebrate both my birthday and my continued existence on this earth after multiple attempts on my own life. I am now healthy and strong enough to walk, so I walk.
Please click below to share the link or contribute to my fundraiser:
I love this:
"A yearbook of how women can suffer;
A towering, brutalist museum."
That beat! Your song went so well with the read. ✨