last night i stood in the dark
two thin blades my foundation
i stood on water in solid form
white. black. silver. clear as glass.
balance takes time
as i move carefully
a tiny line is left behind
this is my path on ice
i can look down and watch these feet
they take turns
cutting into and sliding over all the imperfections
the frozen pond jagged, hard and smooth
skating at night with city lights above me
again i wonder if i am free
here i am because i have these
capacity. ability. opportunity. time.
what is this to me
i love it because from the ice
my feet carve out speed and push me on
i am afraid to fall
i am like a child
each circle i turn i learn from
each stuttering bruising tumble
this is my winter flying
my feet have cold sharp wings
i do not run from things
i turn circles cerebrally
the only cage i've felt
is the one i carry with me
i run my fingers along it's bones
my cage houses things which i keep
doubts and fears i don't understand
perhaps never will
i know this
on winter nights
i can kick, right and left
i can glide
i know i can fly however awkwardly
i can fly
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