On this staircase I alight to see the world in silver shoe and indigo slipper. My fingers trail the polished railing. Tears burst beneath my feet as heel pierces scattered sacrificial petal.
Ivory lace and blue ribbon yet this is no wedding. Whalebone presses against rib. Ink flows freely down my body and tattoos the steps behind me.
My breath begins to leave me. I feel it disappear from my lungs like mist obliterated by sunshine. The diamonds fall off my shoe, followed by scarlet bowtie. Gloves shred off my fingertips. My blood darkens the railing beautiful.
Shadows of the people who guided me to this staircase retreat into past. They gave me up. I take off one shoe and then the next. They do not know what it costs to climb the stairs, but they dared imagine the reward.
It is not their courage I carry with me. Movement of my body undoes the buttons down my back; bodice splits open. Silk tumbles away, followed by cotton that laughs on the wind. I hope they find the pieces of the woman they know dead at their feet come sunset. I hope they find my silver shoe.
I will reach the landing alive. I will stand at the golden edge of civilization and I will choose the wilderness.
Photo via The New York Public Library