An excerpt from:
FROM GRAVITY, WE ARE FREE
The Fat Girl Proclamation
We walk as land, as a solid, living earthquake. All of us Fat Girls.
We roil and we undulate and we steam. If you look close, you see mountains.
If you look closer, you see volcanoes of smolder and depth and flame.
There is an extra layer of Woman upon us. Woman, at all of her best.
Sensuality is skin upon skin and we are everlasting skin upon skin. Neck
to breasts to stomach to thighs, calves, ankles
everywhere, skin touching,
moving, constant exorbitant embrace. We are an ocean, rolling ceaselessly
over ourselves, rolling ceaselessly over you.
We are inch upon inch, foot upon foot of high-tempered nerve-endings,
hypersensitive, mega-aware. Every touch is magnified. Every touch we give
is fully loaded.
And we are everywhere. You see us sitting on a subway or a park bench,
or walking slowly down the street, appearing to sink into the ground with
every step. You see us as sad, as having one foot, one knee, one thigh
in the grave. Our bodies our coffin. For some of us, that's true. If a
Fat Girl is still shrinking from human reprimand, if she is still shying
away from her own depths, then she is sad. How hard to be so large and
feel so small at the same time! How could such richness be worthless? Why
should we want to be shallow? Sheer excess makes us alive and life-seeking
and free. We dive into ourselves and then rejoice out, making thin air
thick with life and soul and spirit. We are not sinking. We are savoring.
There is an extra layer of Woman upon us.
We know how to relish, and we do. We enjoy all that is offered and earthy
and real. We feel every motion through our bodies, and those motions are
delicious. The earth is at our feet and the sky is above our heads, and
the ocean beats our hearts enlarged. From gravity, we are free.
When we are accompanied, we are with those who appreciate us. They understand
that the heft of our breasts, each lifted and celebrated in two hands,
comes from more than hunger. It comes from desire, the desire to know it
all, to feel it all, to embrace and take in and expand. It comes from joy.
Have you heard us sing? Have you heard the full voices that swoop out
of full bodies, that climb scales, fall back, and soar again, through stanzas
and staffs and serenades? Voices that flood a room, stream over your shoulders,
overflow your pores. The voice of Woman. The voice of pure joy. Satisfaction.
We have an extra layer of Woman upon us.
Fat Girls recognize each other from across the room. We recognize each
other from across the continent. We pass each other and we nod and we know.
Our smiles are for us alone.
Can you imagine us all together? Arm in arm, flesh to flesh, under a
moon that is one glorious curve. One full circle, a reflection of all that
is light and dark and grounded and floating. The moon calls us out, with
the chill of the air, and we meet amid songs and exhibition. Our skin glows
silver, our hair flows free, and there is a path to the sky and to us.
A connection of skin and silk and silver and curves and glory and larger
than life. On earth, we are the moon. And in the sky, the moon is us. Round
From gravity, we are free.
Moon-soaked, we raise our faces and we sing. All those voices soar from
all those bodies, rustle trees, wave ocean, spark sky. Round faces atop
round bodies, round mouths inundating melody, harmony, round hands slapping
round knees in rhythm. All of us rejoicing. We are Rejoice.
We are alive. Everything in us is bounty and burgeon. We are full, we
are large, we are lovely. When you look at us, you should never see death.
Never a foot in a grave, never a body as a coffin. Just life, life in curve
upon curve, in mountain cresting mountain, life in our touch, our song,
our connection to the earth and the sea and the moon.
We are the Fat Girls. We have an extra layer of Woman upon us. We are
Woman. And from gravity, we are free.
If you would like to read the rest of "From
Gravity We Are Free" or the rest of the stories in Enlarged Heart,