Friday, June 20, 2014

The Locker Room

My nudity is my activism.  I declare this a war-free zone.  I expect nothing but praising glances for this body that lifts heavy things.  For this body that moves each day only by some perpetually renewed miracle.  For this body, with its dimpled soft flesh and stretch marks, indestructible evidence that I made life.  For this body that keeps showing up and taking its rightful space.

This body is a prayer, a song of praise, for my Creator, who brings forth and sustains life in shouts and cries, in panting breath and racing heart, for the violent perfection of the universe we inhabit.

I own this body.  It is a gift I possess alone.  And I share it with you now, you onlookers who hide your breasts and body hair and instruct your girl-children to look down and change in bathroom stalls, as an act of optimism, as a peace offering.   

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