to be puzzled over, riddled out, proved.
measured for surety,
It occurred to me today that I am still trying to please her.
Why do the old and wise weep, readily? I know…
Things get a little smush, lines blur, boundaries mingle, I catch up in my panties after a sneeze, in my sniffles dripping,
In braless and beltless resistance,
in blurred vision when I squint in the creak of my knee things relax and melt and meld loose, unnecessary, but
A right earned,
Messy. In bloodless battles, in humiliations, in worn and weary dungarees, in peacock preening proud.
a reverie, resolution, realization,
Catches up, pops in,
In belly laughs of happy fat,
You know happy fat?
Pure like Spam in Hawaii.
Solid. Certain. A ray of light, shot to the Heart, then I know, and I weep readily from my Soul there is peace in knowing I’ve done my best.
This rounded thigh is natural curve, not embellished with wrong-doing or high living, aging nicely as She intends, but
on an unremarkable day, seasoned. Some days my age shows,
And yet, I still strive to please her.