I walked many moons
partially a person, partially not
Will this pass
as mama said it would?
Pressure: no relief.
It is me who requires the acceptance of losses and celebrations of wins:
I gain a new fashion falling at my hips and draping loosely down my legs.
my clothing size is not different
I shed the heavy sweaters I was wearing:
I continue with a full closet
Many things are hanging off hangers
No place, but still needed
Stacked in piles
It must remain
I am not scared of it anymore
The sun is shining through the tiny closet windows
The Light that I long for is glistening,
Fear has lifted
longing for the past departs
The miracle was here,
is here, is now, is to come.