they have all been mothers' days
i can’t remember
what my skin was like
before i moved
to Indonesia
or if, back then
i ever examined
my own face
in the mirror
but if i had, my skin
would have been
blurred
like
powder makeup
young, dry
unburnt
and smudged
around the eyes
in this country
my skin is almost
always shiny
shining
blushed
amphibian
for some reason
or other, me
or the island
it is full
of almost
too much life
but it, my skin
is pale again
and my cheeks
and chin
are rounder
now, i look
many times a day
at my own face
in the mirror
and
all i see
is my grandmother
from a photograph
in sanguine greys
taken when she
was younger
and from
a recenter one
in springtime shades
of rose and ivory
carefully strewn
with flowers
//