Somewhere in my heart
there is a tiny woman
with a crimson scarf
and hair pulled back
who is balancing
on a tightrope—
she has not yet learned
that it is okay
for her to fall,
that the net
will always catch her,
so she keeps doing
the same boring walk
back and forth
thinking how brave
and how proficient
she is at staying
on the rope,
never learning
she could also
jump and swing
and leap and twirl and fall
and get back up.
