Love Notes to the Body | Kimberly Gomes
Kimberly Gomes is a San Francisco writer, filmmaker, and outdoor explorer. She received her MFA in creative writing from San Francisco State University, where she wrote her first women's adventure novel, A Road of Her Own. Her writing has been featured in publications such as, Rogue Agent, sparkle + blink, PEN Center USA's Only Light Can Do That, Sunset Magazine and The San Francisco Chronicle. When she's not writing or working on documentary shorts, you can find her plotting or living her latest adventure. Follow her journey at @writeon_kim and learn more at www.kimberly-gomes.com.
Shopping for selves on aisle five
This body was stolen from the girl on the newsstand – borrowed hips, thighs, plumped lips. A body slipped over skin, singeing circulation
of who once lived within. And despite the discomfort, I stayed.
Stayed until limbs began to rot, until skin peeled, until it seemed like
the right time to leave its exoskeleton on Golden Gate grass
barcode facing up. I shed it under new moon sky,
hoping darkness would hide the imprint ribs leave
after decades of squeezing into a body that didn’t fit.
That body was stolen from the girl on a newsstand, the girl who nipped
at my heels from 18 to 23, the girl who incessantly reminded me to shrink, shrink, shrink. The girl I should’ve returned upon receipt, but when comparing her gifts to mine she felt like a fitting way to walk through a world of ready-made adjustments.
So, I’m waiting.
Waiting for a replacement, for the feet to thicken into sails,
for hips to unfurl into wings, for thighs to thunder like mountains.
And while I’m waiting, the tremors are rumbling, the ground moving. And just like the sun rises, I know so will she.