MOVING TO LIGHT The Storm That Tames Us Renée Gregorio He threw me once. That's all it took. Just the clean sweep of his foot along the mat and I was done for—tumbled and caught by rushing gust of wind. My body flew up then down fast, to the coin's edge between pain and pleasure, where there's only the throb of the yes of the moment. Then I knew the cleanliness of energy coming from all of him, knew what it meant to be at the rope's middle, that still and centered point between opposing forces tugging for position. Even childhood was never so right, all that holding back, afraid of speech that would reveal me, always a veil over my eyes and face like an ancient bride. The veil, which held me away from the scent of the likes of him, even from myself. When he threw me there was no thought before or after. He woke me from dreaming, maybe a lifetime of it, and when I turn in that direction, there is light coming up over a mountain— it is no less than the light of a full moon in this star-ridden desert sky. His sky has stars in it, too. I saw them begin to reveal themselves, only a few scattered in that once-fogged dark. Only a few, but I remember their brilliance as I remember him later pushing me back onto the table, my silk under his thick hands, and to me it seemed the whole audience must have turned toward us— there was so much light. ©1999 Renée Gregorio