The morning after

You don't know
I danced naked
before my mirror
the morning after
arms flying high
not a practiced meringue
or salsa
or cha cha
but hips swaying
all the same
wondering if I could
ever dance this dance
with you? for you?

And a stranger's
ungracious
unsolicited words
stab me deep and hard
his critical stare
at my flaw (or is it a scar?)
has me reeling
once again
drowning
knowing I've not
underestimated
the expectations placed
on all of us
ALL OF ME
and once again
I fall short

I search for clues
a way of hope
your simple grace
your giving thanks for
a greater GRACE
and I wonder how I will proceed

I will need to ask
for every ounce of
that precious grace
extended over my
head and heart
and mind and soul
and pray you get it
because
you've been there too
or some other equally dark
chasm of depair - rescued
only by that same
irresistable GRACE
for which we give
THANKS