Let’s Get Dressed

I unzip the one-piece pajamas, 
& out comes the crumb of a body. 
At once soft batter. I want to stir 
what is already too late. 
Slip the sweater over her head.
Ambling in sudden dark, brunette crown 
through the opening. I can’t help it. 
My body knows this struggle. 
A year and a half ago. Unlit night 
until jarring morning. Ulna, radius, 
humerus, emerge as a set, into mine 
waiting. Hands I am learning
to fit myself into. Graze the divet 
where I once fed her 
without stopping to notice. 
I don’t name it a wound, but it healed 
over like one would. A dimple
of old news. I won’t call it a scar. 
Gauntlet of pants to thread next. 
She resists each tube, fierce 
beaters emulsifying chocolate cake. 
It is hard to acquiesce to jeans.
We have that in common. Our urge 
to roll away. Your face asks mine 
for certainty. My answer—exalting 
you, lapping up your every scrap—
purely self-serving, cannot assure 
our permanence. What clothes did I wear 
before I was clad in mother? I disappear 
pink toes into tiny cups of socks.