Steaming silver.

I hid so well behind the steaming silver, marrying my breath to the hiss of the furnace.

You walked right past me.

You didn’t see me standing there, smiling.

I hid so well under bolts of fabric, protecting me from the sun and the gaze of swelling schoolboys. Even my shoulders whisper from under the cotton, “soothe me, shake me, touch me.”

I hid so well that you didn’t notice as I changed, as I transformed, as my breasts billowed beneath the blue. This skinny school girl now sings of the welled up woman. You were so quick to dismiss the girl but you can’t take your eyes away from the woman in front of you.

I hid so well that you didn’t hear the heavy breath fogging the glass in the stairwell. Palm to palm is groping me with tentacles.

I hid so well that you didn’t see the broken glass beneath my wrists. That you didn’t hear me screaming, crawling in my skin and begging for someone to put a bullet through my brain.

Or lining up the pill bottles on the bathroom tile, over and over again. Red. Blue. White. Red. Yellow. Yellow. Yellow. White.

I hid so well until my voice shattered the silence, broke through cathedrals of auditory paralysis. My voice lighted high into the air, screaming like the hunted red tail.

I hid so well that you didn’t see me dressed in white, trailing chrysanthemums to the Temple.

Sharing my space with the spiritual and surrendering my abdomen to angels. You didn’t see me as I walked the velvet floors, encircled in the white dew of heaven aura. You didn’t see this rough, heavy spirit become weightless and free as it drifted towards the Maker and Mother.

I hid so well that as I sit here boiling and brewing, turning and spinning, meditating and membraning my way through the thick of it, you only see the seventeenth century milky white of my skin. I sit here silently surrendering, ready and willing, plotting and prancing – you’ll never even see me strike.

I hid so well, down deep within the caverns of my body, entrapped in the chasms of my spirit, buried and tangled in muscle and bone…down, down, down deep…a small string circling back into stone. A whisper, swelling into a scream.

I hate to hide.

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