Jen Karetnick
SELF-PORTRAIT WITH MENOPAUSE AND MELASMA
The numbers say that all year I’m twin flames.
In the mirror, I am purple circles
under eyes and a patchwork rug of skin.
Inside, I weather the storm and the lull.
In the mirror, I am purple circles
on the eroded map of middle age.
Inside, I weather the storm and the lull,
balancing these odd hot flashes of rage.
On the eroded map of middle age
I opt for the balm of the tropical,
balancing these odd hot flashes of rage
with the open refrigerator’s cool.
I opt for the balm of the tropical.
I cleanse the house of my body with sage,
with the open refrigerator’s cool
drafts, scented with the promise of fresh eggs.
I cleanse the house of my body with sage,
under eyes, on this patchwork rug of skin.
Drafts are scented with the promise of eggs.
The numbers say that all year I’m twin flames.