Daphne Unbound

To hell with this scarf that concealed my hair and hid my face! It robbed me of breath and made my skin itch. How I longed to flaunt these flamboyant red curls and shame the roses. I deigned for the sun to bronze and bruise my skin where no make up, no hand has ever touched. To hell with this scarf, this suffocating piece of rag! This time the breeze shall tangle every strand of my hair and I shall find no need for comb.

I’m done with this skirt that reaches far down my ankle. They caught thorns and dirt wherever I went. I longed to run down the hills in long strides, muscles quivering and tense. I dreamt of bare legs stretched on the grass smothered by the sun and wind. Where my steps are confined by the diameter of the hem, this time I’ll go as far as my eyes take me and shall need no cover.

I shall throw my slippers into the fire and never look back. Slippers are so thick and so bothersome I could not feel the earth’s warmth; I could not run. I planned to plant my bare feet into mud and coax the ants to bite my toes. I love the dirt to paint my feet, I love the feel of dirt. I will walk on beds of thorns and taint the soil with blood. This time, I shall not need those chains.

I am unhooking the bra that bound and pinched my breast! It is so tight and confining I felt it numbed my chest. I desire the pleasure of nipples hardening in the cold and of the rise and fall of breast with my every move. I hungered for the rain to trickle down my cleavage as goose-bumps rise all over my body. I shall allow the leaves, dust and sweat to caress it, and this time I have no need for shame.

*Photo of feet from http://www.clinicalcorrelations.org/wp-content/uploads/2007/07/feet-2jpeg