A poem
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They call it a limitation,
a deficiency to be overcome.
But this body
is not a disappointing
machine in need
of repair.
It is not defined
by what it cannot accomplish,
but by the art it creates,
the poetry in motion,
the profound expression of life
persisting against assumption.
Granting new perspective
on the supposed ideal body’s frailties
and socially-scripted “norms”,
seeing ability where the rigid mind
perceives only inadequacy,
every adapted gesture a sacred reclamation
of the right to exist as I am.
Releasing limited definitions,
transcending narrow misconceptions of the flesh,
embracing wholeness, cradling the divine
in this singular form.
Undauntedly pursuing the full experience,
not in spite of corporeal “flaws” but because
being human is an alive verb,
not a rigid form to fit.
I will not contort myself into shapes
more palatable to the ableist lens.
I honour my body’s inner way,
unapologetic in its truths,
and in so doing, reflect back our
shared vulnerability,
our shared strength.
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