My mother has beautiful bone structure
I can see it
with every pound she loses
Her skull reveals itself
bones pushing against her skin from the inside
Temporal ridges connect to her cheekbones
which connect to her jaw
which connects to the outlines of her dentures
Her eyes peer out
wide and strong
shining silver
like dancing ghosts
saying I know my body is shrinking
but I will never die
I know she is scared of death
but she has never been scared of life
We all wish for swift and painless
but death is rarely fast
Just like birth
from the beginning
we watch the soft curves
of the abdomen grow
physically appearing
And in the end
we watch the soft skin
wrinkle and thin
The body withers and waifs
physically disappearing
No one should have to disappear
before they have to
Good girls read faces like manuscripts
staying one step ahead
to avoid whatever wrath of disapproval awaits
Good boys become the familiars
of their fathers
mimicking postures and performance
to avoid whatever wrath of disapproval awaits
Burning both sides
of this generations coin
Enabling the power dynamics
of our ancestors
to continue to dance
Wrapping my arms
around my 9 year old nephew
and my 60 year old mother
is not much different
The size of my embrace
and the caress of delicate ribs
feels about the same
My panic to adequately
express my love
wells up in my throat
and the strength of my bear hug
is fought
by the squirm of youth
or the fragility of frail
I grew up fighting fierce hugs from my mother
Her tight grip
never ready to let go
But now that her strength is less
I fill with regret
Squirming in my youth
Always being the first to pull away
But now all I want to do is reach
And uplift
And encourage
And show
my nephew
that she can stop shrinking
for everyone else.
