so here you are,
your children grown,
you,
the young woman,
whose breasts they and
I have sucked,
who came and fucked me
naked on the sitting-room floor
after your parents
left for work
you,
who told me techniques
for lifting vinyl from Our Price
you
who smoked cocktail cigarettes
I see
you now
aged and as old as I
when in my heart you have been
set in woven stone
you
who brushed your teeth
naked in the bathroom
while I watched vibrations rippling
through your sunburnt breasts
you
who I photographed
in and out of my clothes
and
whose image is framed in
my mind’s eye
you
have emerged
from the creeping years
wrapped in wrinkling skin
but
you
are there
still caged within
now wearing the respectable
style your fucking mother wore
you
restless in the breath of living life
now embrace the fear
that showing too much soul
will somehow
kill you
and have stepped
out into the light
