the skin on my ankles is dry
and white in that Ivory kind of way
I was looking at my ankles and feet whilst doing stretches this morning
and all I could see where my feet should be
were my mother's feet -
exactly the same -
though perhaps marginally larger
I observed closely the blue veins
feeding every muscle
and the tendons
which flicker at every movement
they look just like hers
and I felt closer physically
nice fleshy closeness
my own showing hers to me
like a subtle message
from genetics
or SAUDADE, perhaps
own flesh providing nearness to a distant other
a mother
here I was missing her
only to find her, here,
there all along
for better or worse, as it may be -
though neither before realisation
not only with me,
but literally part of me,
I saw her
in me, on me
in ankles and veins
and elsewhere I'm yet to discover
or am trying to deny
