2013-03-09T20:47:04-08:00March 9th, 2013|Musings on life|

I was born this way

She’s a little older than my son
not by much
but on the playground
she is his protector

she takes him by the hand
says come here baby
and he follows her around
lets her show him things
he already knows

I find out her name
which I tell her sounds
like a fairy tale name

then I say ouch
what happened to your lip
and as soon as I say it
I know
I know

I was born this way

she says it like she’s bored
of the question or maybe
of a face that got coloured on
without her permission

she lifts my son into the sandbox
or drags him because his feet
don’t quite lift the ground

and as she shows him
in a loud slow voice
how to use a shovel
I sit on the ledge
and tell her
leaning way in

when I was young
I used to wish so much
that I had a mole
between my lip and my nose
that I used my mom’s eyeliner
and drew one on every day

she looked hard at my face
and then says
with a softness
that flattens me

it’s ok
you’re still pretty

and then goes back
to playing with my son
tells him I’ll be the mommy now
lay down on the sand pillow
it’s time for your nap.

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