Thanks to the Sender

As it has done-will do-so many times,
My skin left my mother’s as I turned,
Every cell in my back aching in reverse.
I felt a package in the post, managed and inevitable.

As they have done-will do-so many times,
My long legs stretched up the stairs
To the huffing and waiting train
With all of me in tow, parcel paper wrapped tight.

As I have done-will do-so many times,
My cupid’s bow lips parted to sigh,
My dimpled cheeks slack with measured pain,
My brown eyes straining ahead, for fear of ripping the stamp.

As it has done-will do-so many times,
My mind wandered and wondered whether
I am really my own,
Whether I can claim any of what I am.

My face is hers. My strength is his.
Everything else was gifted to me.
I feel a puzzle, a Jenga tower, a mosaic,
A mismatched piece of machinery with
Parts and pieces
That somehow manages to cohesively step onto the train.

As I have done-will do-so many times,
I appraised my pieces,
Taking stock, checking inventory, and
Sending thanks to the senders.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s