The body is a multilingual.

It speaks through its color and its temperature,
the flush of recognition,
the glow of love,
the ash of pain,
the heat of arousal,
the coldness of nonconviction.

It speaks through its constant tiny dance,
sometimes swaying, sometimes a-jitter, sometimes trembling.

It speaks through the leaping of the heart,
the falling of the spirit,
the pit at the center,
and rising hope.

Women Who Run With the Wolves
- Clarissa Pinkola Estés