 |
| Leonard Pękalski, In front of the Mirror (Ms. Wanda P.) (s/f) |
I had a lumpectomy now I have to face my husband at night
for 25 years I’ve been little spoon to prevent swelling we lie
face to face he’s been at work from 7 in the morning to 11 at
night his co-chair matching him hour for hour there’s never a
good time to get sick it’s been 62 days and I still don’t know
if I have to have chemo because there’s likely to be a next time
I already have another lump the size of a hard-boiled egg the
body doesn’t know what to do with the empty tomb it fills the
space with fluid my husband’s co-chair is a woman tucked in
my armpit I feel it pressing more snow coming every day will
you be home for dinner I read that breast cancer is caused by
emptiness I read that if a woman smells the sweat of a happy
man her depression will disappear this morning I wake to a fire
he built for me before he left for work it will snow I am alone I
put makeup on before bed
Betsy Johnson-Miller. Columbia Poetry Review, no.32. Chicago: Columbia College, Spring 2019.
0 comentarios