Long Sleeves | Womanly Magazine

First published in Womanly Magazine Issue No.5: Stressed Out!

“What happened mummy?”

Stumble trip, stumble trip, stumble trip.

“Did you go on a bear hunt?”

I must not lie…I must not lie…I must not lie…

His feather-light fingers trace my scars And a magical metamorphosis deploys;

Vroom vroom come the holistic reverberations As his cars speed over the bumps.

His lens of magic-realism bestowing its purpose On the wounds of my melanin roads.

His cars continue onwards, And his inquiries are lost in play.

Unencumbered by the signposts of troubles past, He has gifted me with another day.

I eavesdrop on diggers and dinosaurs, And count the footfalls of his elephants march.

Through the innocence of his language I search For the words that might help me to explain:

Self-preservation demanded its pound of flesh And I did my part to conceal the pain.

Long sleeves, hot summers and lies…

Shuffling feet bring me back to the moment, And the bounty he fails to conceal:

A smuggled orange begging to be discovered If only so it can be justly devoured.

“Big sharp knife mummy! Big sharp knife!”

He squeals in anticipation of the escaping juices And the sweet offerings of their release.

While I choke on memories of a sanguinary trickle That once held a similar promise, juxtaposed.

“Touch the sharp bit mummy,”

“No baby, it might hurt”

Or heal.

Some things are best left undisclosed.

I soiled my body and kicked dust over it

But this sleeping dog will be left to lie.

“Baby, I fell...” I’ll begin one day, with no idea still, where I will end.