If anyone had walked up to the barn that day and peeked inside, they would have seen into my darkness. They would have seen that he’d pulled my panties aside, tangling then in the strands fo his rope, and exposed me to the mountain breeze finding its way through the cracks in the rough hewn wood. They would have seen me vibrating with need like a moth caught in a spiders web. But, would they have seen my smile? Would they have seen the release of air from my lungs as I exhaled the negativity of my past? Would they have seen the muscles of my shoulders finally give up their fight against the gravity of loss? Would they have seen the light finally beginning to find its way through my own cracks?