here I am, a body of memories:

the feet of a walker, coarse and flattened,

thousands of miles have I roamed.

feet that carried the weight of fluctuations

between body love and body shame.

ankles that were cursedly passed on

thick and boney, yet never failing.

calves that connect to the worst joint of

this body of memories: the knees,

the targets of frustrated students.

too many kicks, too many times,

knees that cannot ever decide

whether or not to give out on the stairs.

here I am, a body of memories,

a painful sciatic nerve sending sharp

reminders to move. no, lie still.

belly of Buddha, plump and rolling,

memories of salty and savoury.

here I am, a body of memories

a heart full of love for decades old babies

who nestled all snug in my womb and

now live contently in the small of my heart.

the neck that says oh, what a wonderful

life you have lived full of sunshine unfettered.

here I am, a body of memories,

a face with stories of laughter and

sunburns and a tree in the woods.

eyes of a father, mom’s cute button nose,

a head of hair that wavers between

mousey and the shining grey of later life.

here I am, a body of memories,

a woman of a certain age.

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