My body is the same make
of the rivers and the moon
Of deep roots
that curl in the Earth’s womb
My body is my anchor
between the trembling earth
and the sky’s rocking waves
An abode of solace for the rest of my
living days
My body dances to the
colourful tastes of life
and sings to the depths of the ocean
a tune of my existence
And yet, I find myself
finding my body
a reflection
of your moods
A mirror
A canvas
Misused
Maya Adams is a contributing writer. Email her at feedback@thegazelle.org.