You don’t have to be perfect or clean; tidy or just so. Neat or smiling or friendly. You only have to be you. The wild, gnarly, sweet serpent of you. Shedding skins. Becoming new. Transforming in your way. When we see it: your becoming new–we believe in the magic of dragons again; of other worlds & Ancestors; of Playing guitars in the sky. I believe in the Poem of you. Every word & space & hiccup, your tongue slick on the edges of your teeth; the gritty brilliance of you the Body I want to hope you canLove in all its facets.The perfect & glorious imperfections; The brokenness, the pain, the wild, the hurt– the all of it. Let’s imagine a world Beyond all this…What if?…..
Love, Sofia Rose Smith