My Mother does not Look Back
My mother does not look back from the mirror
unless it’s long and low enough to catch the large, misshapen thighs willing
to carry me and the swollen right knee
still willing itself to bend.
You are there, mother, for as long as I need you.
A college friend staring at her skin-covered femurs said before she died, “Look. I wanted thin thighs
and now I have them.” It was her gift
as all things that carry a load give.
Mermer Blakeslee
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