florencía

035

SELFISH AND PREJUDICE

27 January

I'm not Florencía Taveres. I was never Florencía Taveres but am a weak and submissive vessel that inhabited the body functioned by evil and spirit that lead me on a winding path that brought me back to where I started in ever believing my body ever belonged to me. I'm the wind. The moon and the stars, the sun that shines down in how beautiful this body is, the water that beads along Florence's body, so curvaceous and rooted deep in what it meant to be feminine, a woman of God and kneeled at his feet for an acceptance he gave all.. no matter how evil. Im the breeze that whispers in her ears, the leaves that wave to her, the trees that dance for her, the grass that tickles her feet as she meditates. I am that soil that finds solace in the valleys and hills of her fingerprints, in her nails as she gardens. The dirt that homes the flora that blooms in her eyes, a sign of her blossoming in the form of nature, her nickname. Flora. She was flower that homes me, the bumble bee pollinating the flower that faces that sun I shine down on her. I'm the sun to her garden, the beat of her heart that lulls the head of the man that loved her so. I'm the energy that gave her feminine power, the spirit that made her so confident in her womanliness and beauty in a world that spoke hellishly of jealously towards the undeniably bright and beautiful, ruthlessly to whom weren't beautiful enough. Critical of the ones who met the standard. I am the love she nurtured, the love that left her body, the love she craved and the love she yearned like a fix of the strongest of narcotics. I was the world, a pure spirit of what Florencía could be, but what Florencía is not. I am only a hazy concept of something she could never be and I waved in her beautiful face so proudly. Making her feel authority only for moments where it truly wasn't a virtue of presence but rather loitering in the weight of her wandering thoughts wondering when there was ever going to be to be a day she could be in control.

Being Florencía was a beautiful thing. An uplifting and inspiring experience. Being a woman who was so confident and sure in the way she loved. A woman who loved shamelessly and was loved back just as equally. The woman who went by Flora and experienced nothing but honor when hearing such a beautiful name. The woman who was a mother and loved to be that, who loved her motherliness and cherished it as one of her best qualities. The woman who was a girlfriend, a fiancée and loved to be that, who loved to take care of her man, cherish and nurture him as the woman she was and take his hand on a winding journey of growth together as once close friends, to girlfriend and boyfriend to soon husband and wife. She was a woman of the world, a woman of God and appreciated the opportunity of given another day to live each and every morning. Florencía was a woman who thanked God every morning for giving her another chance to become an even greater woman that she was the day before. A woman who appreciated God for blessing her with another twenty-four hours of life and so much more. A woman who thanked God for blessing her with fertility and blessing her womb with a love that proved what she shared with the man she loved was something real, something true and never ending. Something beautiful and so true. Being Florencía was a blessing. An indictment of living in constant serenity, serenading the world with her self righteousness and filling the heads of the nation with a message of admiration and gratitude that had Florencía written across it. Being Florencía was a privilege, a godly honor from God himself that walked the Earth as a vessel of his eternal love. A virtue of his love that has no condition.. unconditional.