Move slowly please,
with your gaze.
Breathe me in,
deeply.
Let your eyes adjust
to the light of my beauty.

Try not to rush to those expected places,
because you may miss the stars
that top my cheeks or the islands in my eyes.
Take your time.
Breathe me in,
deeply.

Let your eyes rest in those unexpected places
that hold sweet secrets—
there above my collarbone
where it dips just enough to fall into.
And the rounds of my shoulders,
that tell stories in love marks
of my affair with the sun,
that might be skipped in haste
toward other round places.
Enjoy those too,
honor the space they dance in,
the gravity they command.

Move slowly,
hold them with the grace of one
who has pleaded to be made wait.
Breathe me in.
Take your time.

Let your fingers adjust
to what it’s like to hold the moon.
For should you rush,
your hands may be burned from the light.
Introduce yourself humbly,
as you would to a queen.

For this body is a holy being,
a grateful vessel to this wild soul—
expansive and sacred,
trying to dance in this body,
though my nature is to flow
in and out of space as breath and ocean.

I am the breath of the ocean.
So move slowly.
Breathing in my body,
it is holy,
goddess being.
And it’s an honor
to get to hold me,
reserved for those who take care
and take time.
For those hoping to discover
sweet spaces of unexpected treasure.
And for those impatient
to be held slowly.

Relephant:

My Value is Not in my Body. {Poem}

Hold Me. {Poem}

Author: Kate Hoyle

Assistant Editor: Hilda Carroll / Editor: Catherine Monkman

Photo: DeviantArt