She is disarming,
An example of a full, sweeping,
Barely contained kind of woman.
The kind who dominates the space she graces and,
Allows you to partake in her joy.
The Goddess who laughs the deepest
And dances for herself,
Shaming you into a sincerity you only then discovered.
She’ll ask you questions—
Except they won’t feel like questions
Because she’s an explorer,
Raiding your tombs and catacombs
Blowing off dust and deciphering your hieroglyphs
And you’ll almost forget
That you yourself opened your gates
Because this woman is hypnosis,
She is hale and whole,
Unanchored and uncovered—
She reminds you of your irrelevance.
Before her you lay down
Your arms, your fears,
Your faith, your dreams,
You are bare and unearthed.
Near-blind with awe
You cannot see
That she will never belong to you
That she scarcely belongs to herself,
That her glory is her own,
No poaching allowed.
Valentine Marie is a co-founder of Flux, an online forum for those of us encountering adulthood. A restless person, she loves good food, travel, and family. You can find her in a coffee shop or a used bookstore near you.