1.

disabled.

dis-abled

dis-
as in not,
as in the reverse of.

I am not quite dis-abled,
nor am I quite
abled.

I am, it would seem,
in-between
the two.

Perhaps I am
inter-abled?

semi-abled?

Or would that be
mid-abled?

But no, the
feeling of this being
not right,
of not supposed to,
of “we really
wanted you to be
the fully-
functional
human you
were before”–

in all it’s subtle
and
not
so
subtle
forms —

that feeling leads me to wonder
if in fact I am

mis-abled.

What you cannot see
is that I have learned
a new dance —

to move a-round
in a new way,
to move a-round
in a new shape,

to mind my steps

and open to
the ones
I can
take

now.

Perhaps this
circling dance
makes me
circum-abled.

Certainly I have
become more
intra-abled,
disarming harm —

without

within —

and learning
to open,
to let my heart
be pierced,
to grieve,
and awaken
from ashes

flying

on wings of
love.

2.

And here is the rub.
It is all of these.
And none of them.