the seesaw balances horizontally, never dipping, never lifting
I stand all the way the edge staring at my perceived opponent,
standing across from me,
in my mind she dips at times and flies at times
I lower my eyes each time she passes that equal horizontal line,
fearing that I’m lesser than, only sometimes considering that I am more than
The seesaw knows more truths than I,
so it whispers into the wind:
this seesaw here, the one you are on and the other girl too–
this seesaw here is level,
the two of you are equals
neither higher, nor lower than each other
both individuals nonetheless
I catch the whisperings and hold each word tightly in each fist,
shifting my gaze back to the opposite side of the seesaw
there I see a smile, a frown, serene eyes
and it dawns on me that all those expressions
I have them too.
