by Tracie
Nichols (2015)
Fifty years in my skin…
there’s something
richly
beautiful
sacred
about the
lengthening swell
of breasts
and belly
silvery scar-rivers
memorializing
expansions
accommodating
womb-borne
children
and soul-
borne wounds
tracing
paths
where
pleasure
has been
given
and
received
50 years in
this body and
everything
about me
is softer
even the fierce
heart-fire
gleaming
in my eyes
these days
it warms
and invites
though once
(if I’m to
believe
my memories)
it incited
