Thursday, February 2, 2012
Failure To Thrive
I have lost touch.
Did you know hormones have curled my hair?
But only my pull knows the wavy spring
or the way ringlets wind around my finger
as soft limbs entwining a lovers body.
She touches my wrist
says "unfist your hand"
I look down to find a truth I did not know.
These clenched hands always prepared now
shoulders hunched and ready.
My fingers open to her suggestion
life line exposed
both her hands grab my palm
thumbs firmly stroking the trigger points
on the ear of an agitated dog.
I think to cry.
I want to.
Inside I did...
stomach distended with all that is unreleased.
And I know why babies fail to thrive without
At 49 I am such a child.
Yet God knows I have need.
The wind came up against my sweating flesh
with it's playground hands, bigger than my body!
They touched everywhere at once
my lips, my arms, my heaving belly
tussling my hair in a way that felt like nurture.
Oh mother, wherefore art thou?
I was touched.
Can a breeze be enough?
I reached out yesterday.
Her judgement harmed me, caged me further.
I am so set back that I consider I will always be alone
in wait for the wind.