To my mother
tonight I dress my body
in soft and silvery silk
it decorates my latest disappointments
flooding cloth around my wrists and thighs
i gently brush through my hair
as if I was my own daughter
sitting on my lap after a hot bath on a long day
placing little drops of cream on her baby soft skin
moisturizing her red cheeks
as I nourish her soul with kind and livingwords
and as I softly stroke the bear skin on my hips,
and tell myself sweet bedtime stories
i wonder
why
do I not spend every second being this gentle to myself?
oh, if I could just always see myself
like my mother sees her child
could always see my body being valid to take up space
could always see my soul as too precious to collapse
oh, I want to crawl into the unshattered safety,
a mother’s mouth can create so effortlessly
and hide in its depths from my
violent hands and mind
mom, can I please borrow your view for a little while longer,
just so that I can see myself
with eyes
so forgiving,
so patient,
so kind.
