Welcome my brothers, welcome my sisters

The truth is I am afraid of her. I hold her on the other side of the glass. I believe she is resting. Metamorphosizing. I cut my claws down to the skin. They are so tender at the moment all dexterity is lost. Just how I moved through the day. Automatic, sore, dazed. Tonight. I wrapped the Lappa round carelessly at first. No, that isn't right. It's uneven at the end. I had chosen purple by instinct. It felt closest to a darkness I wanted, a warm spring darkness. Like the wind always biting while inviting in the sunshine. Suddenly, I unwrap it again. This time I stretch the material wide, and carefully apply one half a portion to the front of my body. The other half hugs tightly in. I combine th edges in a clean knot at the tip of my hip-bone. Now, that is how to put on a Lappa. Headband follows. A purple frame. Tired eyes stair through the frame. Breathe, I get to dance. Face on. Color through. Now, we are here. And I find myself backstage with the ballerinas in pink tutus. But first I cut behind the curtain. I remember growing up doing this. Changing sides in groups of hushed dancers. Preparing for antoher entrance. Tonight though we warm up lightly. Laughing and chatting we stretch and twist, breathe and prepare to spring high. We run through, and I know the control for a solo I want to display. The kick is what I need. And we begin. "Welcome my brothers" Ashay Ashay "Welcome my sisters" Ashay Ashay... This is what I move and where I move through. This is the feeling. Here. There are not two parts of me, there are many, myriad, moving. And in any moment when I feel a slight disorientation, there is the drum holding beats, Here you are, that way, that way, and round. It pulls and pushes me, I direct it with my body. And these ladies of colors spinning. Soft control effortlesss shimmy, serious concentration, playfull celebration. Yet there is something more stirring here. My wings are harnessed. And this motion wants to drill down, into a different plane. Away from these lights, then darkness, the faces I don't know, the claps that I can't recognize. My kicks come too fast. Unable to contain my energy. I now move out of the peace. It is strange to be challenged in that way. To lose control in the moment for full self-expression. Are the stories just still ordered like convulsions. When will they articulate in a meaningful telling? So I leave her there for now. She is not coming out yet. Not needed too soon. Will see her without a doubt. The Lappa was complimented by cowri shells. My favorite. Around my belly's base. And this circle holds her in. When we are done dancing I have had enough protection. I am ready to purge.