changing beneath my eyes
looser each year when I touch it
not unlike the flesh of my ribs
when I rub my hands down
or that of my breasts
when I appreciate their plumpness
Like hers they are lightly nippled
and small
each filling a palm
Was it this way
perhaps loving her own body
she noticed that knot?
In one week the raw seam
lay on her heart
As a child
seated on the edge of her bath
warmed by its steam
and curious about the face
scrubbed of Max Factor
and beaded with sweat
the unclothed skin
stained red
I inhaled the secret bathroom odors
powder and shit
Once I feigned tears
to again press my face
with its open mouth to her body
When she called
I thought of sending red roses
wanting the pucker of their parted mouths
the mouths of newborns who had nursed
No
whose mouths surpassed nursing
I rouged my face
swearing on my reflection
to never die
my children watching
alert
to grief’s common odor
rising from laundry frothing in the hall
from dishes crusting unwashed in the sink