Proof

By. Joann Boswell

post-shower mirror glance
shows someone else’s stomach
stretch out my hand
shocked that it’s me—
deep plum lines streaking
silly-nilly up, making my belly button
parenthetical, have gone silent

and I have the irrational urge
to dash out for my first tattoo
purple back in those translucent streaks
created by my son, just over two. now
my middle is a failed time-warp
attempting association with pre-baby
tummy, succeeds momentarily, raising
Panic alerting Post Traumatic Stress
convene in my hippocampus alarmed, distraught
perhaps, that physical evidence f a d e s

while mental lacerations of birth battles remain
sharp like the scalpel that slit my uterus
and abdomen three times, each, the final
creating a smirk from former poker-face scar.

mourn etchings waning. marks that recall
skirmishes near the end, before war was won.
moments like passing out in the recliner
while two preschoolers bickered at the table
waking minutes later with bile in my hair, husband
running the mile from work to home
racing fire truck, ambulance and my mother
then the ride followed by patronizing male
nurse downplaying my own understanding of me
and doctor, also male, annoyed eight months
pregnant woman couldn’t get “clean capture”
so inserts catheter to confirm massive quantities
protein and, bonus find, UTI. admitted
overnight, left uncertain until glorious advocate
doctor, her smile and red hair glowing, delights
telling me today’s the day! see you in an hour!
the rushed prep, phoning sitters, needles in spine,
slice, duck-bill skin stretcher that caused most
of these once magenta vines, now barely visible
s i l v e r.

but second glance shows
forever-altered shape
dimply under-belly
pale-pink smizing incision

so by the time I’m typing this
my son LEGOing across the table
I’ve talked myself out of re-empurpling,
ink pages, instead, with poetry.

Joann Renee Boswell is a teacher, mother, photographer and poet currently living in Camas, WA (USA) with her spouse and three children. Joann loves rainy days filled with coffee, books, handholding, moody music and sci-fi shows. Some places she’s been published include Untold Volumes, Voices of Eve, Western Friend and Mothers Always Write. Her first book of poetry is expected May 2020 through Fernwood Press. You can find more at joannrenee.com