“After My Therapist Suggested Taping My Baby Photos to the Mirror” by Kayla Simon
After My Therapist Suggested Taping My Baby Photos to the Mirror
What did you have for breakfast? I don’t even think you would remember.
Maybe Dad’s chocolate-chip pancakes, a weekend staple.
I ate them last Sunday, because I was home and thinking of you again,
and I knew what they meant. You don’t know, yet, how little
the body can carry. I won’t be the one to tell you —
though in a twisted way I will, because you’re still there,
sitting criss-cross-applesauce in the back of my mind, small hands
tracing the K in my name. I see through your baby blue eyes,
carry the freckle dotted under your lip, our dimples still match
with Dad’s. If I think too much about it or let myself
look through Mom’s scrapbooks (which I am doing now),
I soak the pages, gap in your teeth blurring to make a full mouth.
How could I do that to you? Unflinching in the mirror, yet
afraid of the glint of a knife. Waiting only for Dad’s heavy footsteps
outside the back door, his sturdy knock meaning dinner
and love, which never used to be so far apart.
Photo Credit: Staff