Meet me on the edge, on this edge of river and earth and skin. Where land ends and water begins, on this edge made of cracks and holes. Meet me on the edge of this earth, where it meets the water, where the two are cinched together, cracks in eternity, the shape shifting of birth, life, death and birth again.
Come to the edge of my in between. The edge of water and earth, of stability and movement. Where the current traces outlines through a stable ground, circling and coiling around banks and notches and fears. Wait for me at this edge of cracks and coils, and in the hollow spaces we will make room for fire and muscles and demons and the rebirth of all the loves I have loved.
Wait for me on this edge of eternity, between skin on skin and scales that flex and ripple. Wait for me as my skin sloughs in one continuous piece, dead skin on new skin that through friction peels and separates, lessons left unlearned and mistakes remade.
Meet me by this river’s edge, this place where body of water meets body of land and bodies collide and grow and collide again. Meet me at the place between the skins we keep and the skins we shed, skin on skin, through friction and fear.
Meet me by this river’s edge.
-Leslie Moody-Castro