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Click hereDespite held tongue, my body betrays me.
It prints my private life.
You need only look at me to know
my body is my diary.
Between the lines scars tell of disease,
a reckless youth,
but my sweet lover once said to me,
"They are only lines to trace."
My tummy, once flat, is now rounded.
Breasts, then firm and high, softened,
served babes well, functioned,
according to Nature's Plan.
I scan this book of decades gone by.
Seeing the dog eared pages,
the representations of a life,
I celebrate the creases!