Adelaide B. Shaw
Being Alive
Unrelenting heat. The old man with dazed eyes accepts an ice cream. The first taste sends a flicker of acknowledgement and pleasure. Although I don't know this man or the woman who is helping him, I feel the sting of tears.
I am afraid to see myself in his role, afraid to think of a life imprisoned by mind and body, afraid to think of needing constant care and attention.
sweat between my breasts
the unpleasant awareness
of being alive
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