in the mirror? She walks
nearer to the glass. But doesn't
look. In fear she'll pass. Wrinkles
replace the pimples on her face. Hair,

gray as a squirrel. She can’t get up
fast, like she’s had an epidural. Her waist
is spread like a jellyroll or a loaf of
bread. Her *******, flat as crepes. What

happened to her milky *****,
the one that fed both her children? Lips
are thin and pale. Nails are short and
cracked. She’s packed on the pounds over

the years. Her eyes are water wells
collecting her tears. The circles under them
are dark as moons. Her stomach is a hot air
balloon on fire making sounds like a screeching tire.