Her god is ecstatic dancing
Surrender to the music, feel the beat in your marrow, your feet planted, the earth holds you, spin with her, faster and faster, until all that remains is pure joy
Her god is Italy
Motorbikes and cycles with bells and churches with bells and 14th century art and a sore neck from looking at domes and gelato
Her god is her children
Soft bellies, chubby cheeks, that divine scent at the top of their heads, bath time, first words, crawling, walking, the rise and fall of a chest, eyes closed, blink and you’ll miss it magic
Her god is poetry
Words flow through our most complex parts and hand us empathy, stanzas give rhythm to the day, lines whispered in the night bind our wounds, we heal letter by letter
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