Swinging from the top of my cathedral, trying to be as nonchalant as Quasimodo.
Surrounded by beauty, I roam the magnificent towers. Forever in every heart of all citizens, in the city of love. What should be a romantic tale ends up portraying the ugliness – not of my hunchback and bushy eyebrows – but the hatred towards those who don’t roam the streets forward-facing.
I run backwards, the last thing you see is my face. An exercise in de-prioritising superficial beauty. If I wasn’t on my way to ring those bells of the church you love so much, you wouldn’t see me.
I swing, back and forth, I lurk and squat, high above. The gargoyles as my closest confidants, we ask questions. We wonder who is ugly in character, yet has the most appealing silhouette.
I call you to prayer, into my refuge. I open the doors, I let in all those silhouettes. Will you use your chance to turn yourself inside out?
I wonder, I ask. Who’s the hunchback lurking from below? Looking straight up, all shackled to the fabric of society? Locked to walk the earth forever.
Why don’t you come up here? Shed your silhouette, come and ask questions. Be inquisitive, stay curious. Live and love vicariously.