Watching Mom sunbathe-
We always just-knew she was
fat:
She wore less makeup than
the other moms;
We thought her less
because of it.
She was strange and it
seemed unnatural
That someone with so much
need to love,
(come to find out,
years later) ,
So deserving-
Never found any of it
Coming the opposite direction.
But I loved her then,
In her tube-tight top,
Belly up and
bottom sides sweating...
Bulbous thighs and
Sticky hair,
All alone and
Open to the world.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Sounds a bit like my mother - unashamedly super economy sized and made larger with her absolute openess. The love was a given. Great poem. Rgds, Ivan