Transformation
nips at my heels
like a poorly trained pup and
I whirl around, ego rolled tightly,
raised to strike,
lips forming “No!”
But my soul
stays my hand,
gently grabbing me by the wrist,
lovingly whispering
“let go let go let go”
and I am moved, my hand
dropping,
my ego
unrolling.
I open my arms and
close my eyes,
shatter my heart like an
unfamiliar bottle of fingernail polish in
a color I don’t understand,
and I whisper
“yes yes yes”.