The Woman Who Leaped
"Passions are tricky things." She told me. He had wanted her to leave all of her spaces. To tear away from the soft edges, the carved ridges, her gentler corners. But how could she? How did he expect her to follow him into the wilderness of a new country? I met her not too long ago near the wood and the saddles. She sort of swayed when she walked, careless and free. The outcome of choosing herself all those years ago, I rather think. She had questions collected and stores in pockets. Questions she had forgotten about, like crumpled tissues and paper hidden deep in old pairs of jeans. She was twenty once and life was different then. I wonder if the freedom she chased once upon a time became the refuge she thought she'd seek today. I wonder if the freedom was worth the chatter. How much could she really know at twenty years of age? After all of this time she never fell away from the soft edges and kinder ridges of metal gates and old wood. I watch her open and shut...