Fia Montero
HER MORNING
is a science lesson
beginning at the scale
with a quick
mass check, a sigh
as she carefully binds
rambling anatomy,
smoothes lace and wire
over gravid breasts,
is a culinary lesson
wraps strawberry
plump hips, edible
thighs and belly
with tights that itch
but are aces
at sucking in that last
half-inch.
is an art lesson
she paints the depth
of a woman
in layers across her
aging face,
a trace of fecundity in
the pink stain
dabbed on thinning
lips, rubbed
into once-rounded
apple cheeks,
the child watches.
a daughter peeks
around the corner,
soaking in
the metamorphosis
of the exceptional
to the mundane.