Poem: Body Memories by Mark Tulin

Hips mournfully spread,

parting on the mat,

experiencing things I repressed

like the night he kidnapped

my innocence,

hijacked my soul,

doused my hopes

until I promised

not to scream,

not to say a word.

 

Trauma teacher, yoga therapist,

I’ve stored secrets in my hips

that I thought were forgotten.

With one gentle pose,

you’ve uncovered them,

sad and painful truths

for you to cradle,

to heal the hurts,

soothe the wounds,

and return the trust

I thought was lost.

©️MFT