Mother Load poem.

MOTHER LOAD

I'm afraid of looking like Mama.
Her fragile beauty disappearing
into a blank stare.
So, I brush on mascara,
eye shadow, and color my eyebrows.
Create a frame to alter genetics.
Mama's chiseled features,
porcelain skin
and delicate transparency
make me turn away
from my image in the mirror.
An invisibility has always seemed
to hang on the edge of her life.
She looked through me
when I was a child.
I learned that she was
not perceptible,
and held a heavy disappointment
that she did not perceive me.
Will I look through myself
and disappear,
or will I face the awe
of loving her?

Janet Brice Parker, 2003