Why I Want to Dance

I want to be a dancer. I can completely feel it in my body, like it’s bending. There is an aching weightlessness inside of me, reaching and yearning from beneath what feels like years of layers of heavy tissue, built up in belts around my body. I am coated in chains and there are braids of twine tied from the tops of my shoulders and my stomach and my heart and they are tied to cinderblocks, dragging along behind me in a dust. Why move, when movement kicks up so much dust?

What a freedom, what a blessing, what a cathartic baptism; to move like a dancer through a crystal clear air, tinged blue. To be thin and move like paper in the wind. To leap and be free from weight and time; to feel nothing but a sheath of silky gauze between your heart and the beat of the world.

© Jennifer Chaussee

 

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Reviews

[Alessander]

There is an aching weightlessness inside of me

Fave line. This almost is a prose poem, but eh, genres. "How can we tell the dancer from the dance..."