“is that?”
“well, it’s not not…” the double negative seemingly easier than the commitment of a yes. what did it mean to commit to something? what did it mean to change his mind? a careful weighing of a basket of sounds tipping a scale that only he could see. shrouded in vagueness, he tiptoed around delicately. the effort it took seemed minimal to him. a well rehearsed and practiced dance evading the light ever so tenderly.
what he didn’t know was how he looked in the light. how he could look. how a body changes to fit the dance as much as the dancer changes to fit the movement. they had become one.
every now and then the boy slipped, letting the tips of his ears catch the sun, the trail of a fingertip dip into the warmth. his joy spilling over, he couldn’t help himself and was seen. a powerful thing- to be seen. we can manicure and adorn ourselves in glamour but perception is, ultimately, not up to the performer. his careful dance in the shadows allowed for a modicum of control. and in that, safety.
what the boy didn’t know was how he looked in the light. that in the light, he was beautiful.