who am I to not feel as if each exhale that leaves me could move a mountain
as if a kiss from my lips could not bring a sweet death to any
as if my laugh does not bellow enough to make the most bitter of humanity show some teeth
as if the rise and fall of my chest is not, in itself, defiance
my soul defies gravity
the body that holds it could start wars with implication
I am rhythm.
I am blues.
I am art – inception, evolution.
Rachel Kula Godfrey