1992

An entire world exists; it seems, with the light
off as I speak, 18 years into the narcoleptic
future. Role model, the term equaling an understatement,
was turning into a young Jewish woman, her twelfth year
welcomed by radiation, the cold loss of underdeveloped
breasts. Her mother spoke to a higher power; calming
nightfall instilled warmth upon her worried frame, stars
highlighted the situation below while parental nature
echoed, as she laid wrapped up, fear-frayed, in an electric
blanket.

Her given name we shouted, effervescently, in a princess’
ballroom. An Ashkenazi vision dressed in a sparked maroon
hue, off the shoulder accessorized with scar tissue, subpoenaed
by evil doctors and bullshit cancerous malignancies. I wanted to
suffocate the tender mutilations playing that vicious game of kiss-
and-tell with her insecurities. I wanted to whisper in ears adorned by
24karats that she has escaped malpractice by doctors mirroring
Hitler. I was eight; unaware of the asset granted to the sea whose
cascades tried washing her offshore.

She stands at five feet, balancing 31 years, sheltering discolored
welts between cotton spaghetti straps while nursing an amazing marble-
blue eyed creature. Emulating her remains priceless, as
an entire world exists with the lights on as I speak, alert
through needed repose, 18 years into the present.