So I put on my black heels.

I was surrounded by that feeling when you needed to move, to prove something to yourself, to feel. So I put on my black heels. The ones with the straps that crisscrossed like friendly scars across my feet. The ones with the satin tie that cupped my heel like an experienced lover and leaned across my ankles with need, stretching to cover the milky skin there. Then sliding on my black dress and just standing still for a few minutes with my eyes closed, trying to see what I wanted to see come alive before me. Breathing in each second deeply and catching the cultured air in my lungs to exhale frozen figures that would melt my heart. I ran my fingers over the bodice, noticing every tiny flaw in the fabric, admiring the way the sheer outer layer fell above my knees, swirling like water with each swing of my hips. The rotations like waves, flowing in and out in irregular patterns, like heartbeats, kissing my temple, my body, the shore. Your lips as soft as the material I was dressed in. I stretched my legs out in front of me, forcing myself to search for every bruise, or mark, or ounce of fat that decorated my calves. I made myself glide my fingers up, to trace the purple spots or small cuts before, satisfied, letting the dress fall back down to my knees. I was searching for something I couldn’t quite posses, something I needed to find in myself. I watched the black cloth sparkle when I moved it. Black, the mourning color, the color which all others eventually came to, seemed to compliment and resist my shining hair. Angel hair some called the fine substance. My security blanket I fondly referred to it as. My curtain, my shield, my veil to hide behind when the world got too rough for me to care to handle. The cover to throw off when the time came to make the revealing as dramatic as it needed to be.



The soles of the shoes glided easily over the furnished wooden floors, like an old friend, worn in just the right places to fit together perfectly. Our niches the puzzle peices that matched. They glided as easily as an ice skaters over a frozen pond in the winter, cutting their way through the untouched. I moved as if I had this dance memorized, even though I was making it up as I went. Creating things off only emotion, your smile becoming a movement across the room, my arms tangling above my head when I thought of the way you made me feel when I looked into your eyes and saw the truth reflected back in them. The heels of the shoes were my picks, thin and delicate, waiting to crash down to crack when I wanted to stop the spinning. Not that I ever wanted to stop the spinning. I liked the feeling of twirling around in neat and sometimes not so clean circles. The good and the bad parts mending together while retaining shape. This was who I was, a dancing blur, my world turning so fast I couldn’t catch and linger over each individual sight. They were merely fragrances in my bouquet and I held them close to my nose, breathing in deeply, enjoying each aroma. If you kept moving- extending a leg here and reaching an arm out there- you never got dizzy. You just became one into the music, each note another dancer on the stage, coming into the spotlight to perform and then flitting back just as quickly when their part was over. I simply allowed the beat dictate where I went, weaving in and out of the scale. I let the whispers echo in my mind before filtering to my heart. Each word smoothing down my flying skirt or helping me keep my balance when I threatened to fall.



Sometimes I would catch glances of myself in the mirrors around my house. I wished I could take a picture of each of those moments and hang it on my wall for the world to see. I wanted to scream This is the true me! Do you see it? Arms and hands outstretched, reaching for something invisible to everyone else but oh so real to me, sparkling skirt floating above my knees. And my already long legs made impossibly lengthy by the cut of the dress and the heels. My calves extending beautifully into my ankles, each part of my body melting together perfectly. I wished desperately that you could see me as I was right now. I knew seeing me this bare to the core would be the thing to have you fall in love with me. I wasn’t just the shell you saw during the day, I wanted to lead you down entrancing paths into my mind. To feel the world like I experienced it, to notice all the things I did, to see you the way I saw you through my eyes. I wish I could let the dress slide off into a pile of folds and turns. I wish I could take off my skin when you were around, to let all the secrets come forth and present themselves. And I wish you still saw me as beautiful as I was when I was dancing like I was then.