Humming to myself, I brush my outstretched hand through the bushes
My fingers dance through the leaves
They chuckle, leaning into my touch
Droplets of water spring from them and scatter upon my sandals
I giggle, toes wet with dew and tingling from the cold
Light-headed, fuzzy, quivering
My body is a bridge, bending upwards
Their fingers caress my chin, following the contours of my face ever so slightly before grazing my neck and dragging their nails down my back
I shiver
I sigh
Heat spirals down my chest, flushes blossoming from my cheeks
My back stiffens, straighter, taller
Bones in my fingers crack as they roll into fists
The curve of my jaw hardens
I bite into my cheeks slowly, forcing the air from my nose
My hands stand at attention to my sides
Everything is still and quiet
But ready
She holds me
The blanket around us is so soft
My shaking slowly subsides, as my hand grips hers
The vine around my throat relaxes, slightly
Its spirals loosen
My forearms tingle
Her thumb skims them, reassuringly
I inhale
My breathing gallops, in time with the slapping of my hands against the waves
They push against me
I push back
Saltiness slides down my throat
I splutter
I feel. I become. I am –
Alive
We acknowledge the Ngunnawal and Ngambri people, who are the Traditional Custodians of the land on which Woroni, Woroni Radio and Woroni TV are created, edited, published, printed and distributed. We pay our respects to Elders past and present. We acknowledge that the name Woroni was taken from the Wadi Wadi Nation without permission, and we are striving to do better for future reconciliation.