i have discovered a new place to belong. 

i have left the sanctuary empty and linked 

arms with my mother on my way out. 

i take photographs of my own and etch the images onto my ribs. 

it serves as a reminder of today for when i 

become distracted by tomorrow. 

if not eudaimonia, i can find ataraxia in this dance.

i can break from the rhythm and spin in circles with my friends. 

i can never bear children.

where i once held trembling hands together in prayer, i now chime 

hymns of gentleness and compassion, of the universe, 

and of humanity. 

a tender hand has emerged from behind the blinding 

curtain and taken mine, coaxing me through. 

i embrace the things that i could not have known.