now

She is two years old

And playing with firetrucks and steam engines

Sitting knee deep in Barbie doll-clothes

Crayon wax mixed with the sweat on her fingertips

 

Now,

Bottle tops to bottle necks

Her body dressed for nakedness

Now, the Crayola-covered skin nineteen years dead

Nerves paved with tar

Now, she remembers herself at twelve years old

Practicing with candy cigarettes smoked and eaten

Now, her bad habits sprinkled on the floor

Torn underwear mascara rabbit’s feet and lead-stained phone numbers

 

What it is to be big, to feel varicose veins

Hiding beneath the surface of the skin

A lover without a face

A steady job at the call center

That is being old

That is being alive

 

Welcome yourself to it.