TOUCH ME

Touch me here, See me now,

I am still a woman, When you touch me here…

Some answers are more terrifying than questions,

I never asked but am now in receipt of an answer,

I wince when I raise my hands,

Like my grandmother before her and my mother before me,

I empty the bags of fluid when no one is home,

I wear loose clothes, careful not to tangle the tubes…

Touch me here, See me now,

I am still a woman, When you touch me here…

I wake in a night sweat, waiting on the hot flash to leave me,

In the dark, absent mindedly,

I touch them, where they used to be,

I do not remember the soft mounds of flesh that jiggled there,

But joyful pain of my daughter’s embrace,

On the day I came back home.

Touch me here, See me now,

I am still a woman, When you touch me here…

I have decided that I will not survive; I will live.

My hair is short and sparse; sometimes I wear a wig,

My bra shifts a lot; I will take it off and stuff it in my bag,

These bandages remember not the loss, but honor the gain,

I used to look like a woman, but now I am a woman.

I have decided that I will not be the survivor; I will be alive.

Touch me here, See me now,

I am still a woman, When you touch me here…

Amare Poeta