Catch myself sometimes.
Thinking about
the child I once was.
Must have been.
Catch myself poring over dregs;
the remnants of my gawkiness.
Such as the carriage of my body;
reminding me subtly in
the gentle rotund curve
of my ever-present toddler belly.
The natural “pooch” of all youth.
Except for that,
they never care
to suck their guts in
like I do.
Oh, this body that was once six,
and seven,
and eight,
and zero point nine-nine.
Clock o’ mine
began ticking, soon as I had grown
the correct amount of ventricles.
Those pink and squishy chambers
pumping blood into my baby-bone fingers,
into the capillaries of my one brown eye.
Came into this world squinting, I did.
Shed my skin now
more times than I could ever hope to count;
but miraculously, always had
the same number of ribs.
This time around
mostly been called by two names.
Mine and yours.
Like to assign/ume don’t you?
Think you know me.
Do you?
“YOU” everyone collective.
Handing me a sticky label,
asking me to paste it
to my chest, I feel the need to hide.
Spelling out “HI, MY NAME IS . . . “
but oh, ah precious you.
I know well enough by now who I am.
Who I’ve become.
Might’ve come out squinting yeah,
but you see?
It just so happens that
the other eye is open now.
