In the evening,
when her elbows grind into the gravel
beneath whirling toes
and plump, freckled cheeks,
she is alive
in the world with the rest of them.
She is the bringer of motion
of percussion—
of lightness and music–
she
is
everything.
But when the faint moonbeams recede,
she is a hardened lump of throbbing thighs
and raw skin–
stiffened scabs
and sleepy hands wrapped up in sheets
longing for the comfort of
adoring
eyes to tell her that
She Exists.
“The Gymnast” by Angie Hoover-Hillhouse
This piece will be featured in an upcoming stage production called Cat-Fight, which explores the complexities of womanhood!
The Show Tell Project 