If I Were Mine

If I Were Mine

If I were mine, I’d feel everything
The leap in my heart and the drop in my stomach
I’d cry at the drop of a pin
And laugh until I farted, and then I’d laugh some more

I’d eat when I was hungry
And savor every deserved morsel
I’d sway my hips, and dance in the supermarket
I’d cradle my soft belly
And fill it up with laughter and croissants

I’d flirt with you
And you, and you and you
I’d say what I meant
And mean what I do

I wouldn’t be so afraid
Of myself
I’d touch you
And you, and you and you
And I wouldn’t take anything you didn’t freely give
I’d hug without restraint
And smile with my eyes
I would somehow treat my body with more care
And more abandon
Because I know I only have her for a time

I would give her away, and take her back
In a glorious ebb and flow
Like the enigmatic and unwavering tide
With every gift, a re-articulation of self

I’d travel to France
I would caress with questions
I would smother fear with kisses
I would rage
In this wine bottle of a body
I would pop the cork, and intoxicate
You and myself

I would take you in
And let myself out
I would inhale a heady plume of freedom
And exhale a tired sigh of relief
Not because you had accepted me
But because I had finally accepted myself

Because who can surrender
That which she does not actively possess?

Jennifer Wilcove