My mom was naked around me all the time
it used to freak me out.
She wouldn't give me
any warning.
I used to resent it
I'd walk into her room and there
she'd be.
Now I know every part of her.
I can see her
as I'm here.
Trace every inch.
We carry our mom's bodies.
I look exactly like my dad
but I have her thighs
we carry them,
the people we came from:
homes.
Homes carry us.
We're them, they carry us.
This house is a body.
Right now I'm here
tending
to your mother, to my mother
I don't know if people notice it
or not
but it's okay
I'm tending to her
with these thighs
with her flowers
& with candles made of beeswax,
which is also body,
which is just to say a home.
--Hilary Rappaport
Comments