These bodies we wear
Are so much more
Than fancy hangers
For flesh and clothes
So much more
Than files for our charts
Tracking worth and value
One misplaced hair and body roll
At a time

It grieves the soul
To see such sacred places
Void of joy
Pleasure leaking through the cracks
Thorny vines on very tall walls
Thriving off shame & pain
The inner courts disregarded and covered
Our altars broken or filled with chains
Wailing cries asking for escape

We trap ourselves within our holies
Laughing at our true face
Weaving straw sold as vintage lace
In courts meant for celebration
At altars meant for jubilation

And yet here I am
My flesh and bone
Some jiggly bits
Some loved
Most scorned
I will wear the suit
I will drop the towel
I will laugh right through
The gasps and scowls

And, Oh how I’ll sing
Right through these bones
Every finger,
Ribs, and toes
Reverberating through
This skeletal xylophone
Like a musical symphony
To go with the tapestries
I’ve hung all over my holiest of temples

Decorated with images
Of life and love
Markings to remind me
That I am enough
Art that brightens
Up my face
Art that says
I’ll love this space
And be clearly devoted
To keeping it well
My temple lived in
No longer a shell

Love your temple
Love it well
Your holy of holies
With its incense and smells
It’s decorations
It’s you shaped walls
Full of lights
And waterfalls