My Expression.

Life is what we make it. 

And tonight I celebrate my Self

because

Damn. 

I fucking made it, 

I REALLY fucking made it (what exactly you ask? Literally all of my childhood dreams, No one gave it to me. I made it happen.)

and I aint even made it 

but i'll just show you that

the leopard is the shrewdest.

my mouth tastes not tears nor mangos

but my own, me.

my legs no longer tangle together or

with yours, but slink and flow.

the earth speaks to my paws

it tells them of its spirit

and beneath my paw,

she beats, her heartbeats and I feel

a new independence.

My body is long and powerful,

a combination of feminine and strength

and soul stirred up in my muscles

a new love for how she moves

when I listen to her, and let her dance

let her climb,

and let her stalk and slink

a new appreciation

for the way my ears perk and

the way my eyes captivate and

seduce my prey,

a new awareness

for how my hips sway and bounce

their own mountain range

when I walk

and how they shake and need

when I dance

how my leopard, my stamp, me,

lays on the curve of own dynasty

a new love

for the freedom of my arms

they are the wind

they slide down and renew my skin

from your sting and bathe it anew

with warmth

the muscles of my stomach a desert plain

the grooves and hills that are home

to my shoulders and the

small of my back, where your hands once

felt so secure now the valley

alive with the ponds

my dimples

and my orchards below

lay the most smooth of skin

perfectly round in a most

persuading arch

which sweeps into the

thickness of the thigh

and then slinks to

the spot there- there

where you made me appreciate

my body in all of her wholeness

in all of her delicacy and raw

actuality, there where you made

me tick and made me feel,

but not what

she feels with out you.

with out you, she feels.

with out you, she breaths and

she sings from the deepest

place inside heated with my own

blood pumping through my

own heart beating strength through my

own muscles given energy through my own

body and soul and there

she dances and prances around like

a filly and this is with out you

but within me,

within me a growth

this is me grown,

this is me,

Woman,

no longer a shrew,

but I'll show you,