Waiting.

"What are you waiting for?"

The magical moment where there is a call and all things work out to some ideal favorable end.

The second time bends, doubles back on itself and allows you to do something different.

Sometimes, when burned badly enough, you realize that some things are impossible. Flights of fancy. Divine expectations placed on human sensibilities.

You bring your body to Earth and keep your head in the clouds.

There is an imperceptible hardening underneath the skin when this happens. It is the embodiment of duality. Power lies in that.

I'm walking down the strip mall. A man stands up, smiles, and shouts at my back, "Why! Hello there young lady!"

I put on a face. Smile. I let the charm I know I have seep into my voice and respond in kind.

I turn while responding, just my upper body, and give him both my hips and the swell of my breasts. My top is shameless and my jeans are tight. Just a little skin exposed, but more than enough curve. Blonde curls flutter in the chilly breeze. The sun is hiding, and I stand bold in shadows.

I smile, toothy and wide, and walk away red cheeked. The sun warms my bones.

He couldn't see the hardness lurking just beneath my skin. He loved the excess of my body, and what promise he saw in that.

If anything, I am all about excess.