build to scale

I’m supposed to hate

this fight this

(I am twelve and she is a goddess in a yellow string bikini

with brown skin, long black hair, the sun behind her,

and thin so thin in her yellow string bikini and I am twelve and meek and never thin)

I’m supposed to embrace this

flaunt this let it all hang out.

( thirty-five years later does she remember the yellow bikini I would

never ask She was the the goddess The aim of desire

I knew I understood

Now she is a mother

like me round and soft

black hair  grey)

Why am I supposed to cry pose smile


these 2o lbs.

of newest me

(does she hide)


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