Do you know what it’s like,
Mama, to pour yourself
into those pantyhose
and feel as though the seams
are about to explode, like you are
too big to be caged,
like your flesh cannot be contained?
Mama, to pour yourself
into those pantyhose
and feel as though the seams
are about to explode, like you are
too big to be caged,
like your flesh cannot be contained?
Do you know what it’s like
when the tears first appear—
slow and subtle, running up
your leg like varicose veins—
and it’s only a matter of time
before the support
you thought you needed
no longer serves a purpose?
That’s what loving him was like,
Mama. Tell me you know
what that’s like.
