Alone on her balcony, she stretched her limbs, bending forward, taut and stark she folded, naked before the restless hunger of her room.

Hidden behind a curtain in Paris, I watched her.

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Behind her, her bedroom, a homicidal love nest of tossed bed sheets, knotted promises and abandoned clothing. The spoils of a front line, where she the victor had prowled like a predator and won.

Her nakedness was glorious.

On the  balcony of her top floor Parisian apartment, she drew a breath on a slender cigar. On the edge of her balcony she twisted her limbs about the black wrought iron rail and perched like a gothic raven above the Marais street walkers, five balconies below.

Come to the edge, Life said.
They said: We are afraid.
Come to the edge, Life said.
They came. It pushed them…
And they flew.”

― Guilliame Apollinaire French Poet

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Hidden behind my silk curtain, I watched her.

Sweet smoke drifted forward from her balcony, crept behind the silk and for one resistant moment I clutched the curtain then felt my fingers relax, stroke the silk and let the smoke undo me.

I could have stepped back, but I didn’t.

I was in Paris with my now ex husband and my darling daughter, both were asleep as I stepped onto that balcony and saw her. 

I was not ready to leave.

In Paris alone on my balcony I wanted to stay, I wanted to watch her.

The naked woman on the balcony reminded me of the parts of me I had lost. The parts of me in trying to conform had been broken.

I needed to wake up and reclaim myself, I needed some time to be disheveled, naked and alone.

Paris woke up and undid me.

I stepped forward, she waved.

I waved back.

She was comfortable being herself, her nudity was part of who she was in that moment and she was content and present.

The naked woman on her Paris balcony represented to me, a woman living in her own freedom.

Glorious, naked and real.The qualities at that moment in my life I too wanted to express.

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Above the street, an amber light and ocean darkness slipped from the naked woman on the balcony’s room and following her lead I sunk into bed.

The gentle roll of my now ex-husband’s snore and the vulnerable trust of my daughter’s love slept.

Timing is everything when you have plans to reclaim yourself and exhausted like the naked woman in her room, I fell asleep.

My life was about to change again and I needed rest to be ready.

DCF 1.0
DCF 1.0

The woman who follows the crowd will usually go no further than the crowd. The woman who walks alone is likely to find herself in places no one has ever been before- ALBERT EINSTEIN




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