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On the inside there is a dance;
dancers stepping to their own beat,
with their own feet, together they dance.
They dance because they know.

On the outside there is also a dance,
Yet the dancers follow the missteps
of those upon whom they place
ridiculous expectation to dance a different dance.

I have danced on the outside and found
the loneliest aloneness; I have refused -
I have refused to recognize what they know,
and have become hideous.

It is on the inside that one knows
that she is the same as the dancers,
for it is here that the recognition of misstep
is the invitation for love and grace.

Although the mirrors here on the inside
remind me of my many missteps,
I find that to need and to know grace
is better than dancing outside. I am dancing inside.