Her Body A Temple

By Dana Kinsey

Mirrors stretch       ceiling to floor      only

wall decor    her own body    black-legginged

taut          white tank top       torso-molded

action figure          ready         to raise iron 

light grip     human crane arms    palms face

mirror              knuckles rest on thick quads       

Soft bend in knees        quick glance at her 

stance in glass         she thrusts her broad

shoulders forward   rotates them back     to

sockets        then up to ears         drops them

in line      exhales       time for what builds her  

tearing down muscle         to mend it again  

Forearms straight         she raises dumbbells

contracts biceps     declares war on gravity

her arms       stop         90 degrees         before

final assent        to shoulders     muscles assert 

themselves      grow hills      valleys       rippled

landscapes     under supple skin     bold sinew

Weights ascend now        the burden she chose

curled fists rise        to finish what she      wills

them to do       fold arms in half        to elongate

again      lengthen  contract  repeat          again

muscles crave stress         know damage repairs

itself    know human bodies hold something divine

Dana Kinsey is a writer, actor, and teacher with poetry published by Yellow Chair Review, Broadkill Review, Writers Resist, Spillwords, Fledgling Rag, and Silver Needle Press. Her prose appears in Teaching Theatre and Tweetspeak. Dana's play, WaterRise, was produced at the Gene Frankel Theatre in Greenwich Village for the Radioactive Women’s Festival. Visit www.wordsbyDK.com.