I learned from books and movies how to love—the lessons would have been shouts and tears at home. Now I’ll speak to all, I speak to one, I listen. One unrolls one’s heart for crowds or folds it in real small. I sleep when I want to and wake up with a plan, a call-out to play to the world. And then one sits on the stairs, wishing one could have called better, it takes a human to be heard and returned to. We are all we have; it is most human to gather.
I am learning every day what the rules are; I know some are born with that power, they can see the plains extend past the land as if from a tower, all the mountains and rivers, and know where to cross. I’m a girl who learned topography in a library, our fields, our hills were uncrossable, on fire. There’s a great game that humans play and I wanted in, and I taught myself and broke myself to catch up. And I still look downright green, and sound very uncouth, with the spinning top I used to spin alone still at my feet. But it’s glorious, it’s glorious to be out and be tested, this circle dance I’ve always longed to join.