June: An Ode To The Senses, An Invitation For Embracing What Is

June

I see your 

early sunrises and late sunsets
stacks of last year’s schoolwork still cluttering countertops 
heaps of beach towels at the back door  leaving empty towel hooks above them

I hear your 

early morning lawnmowers
late-night whirring fans
Olivia Rodrigo’s new album on repeat from my teenager’s bedroom

I smell your 

fresh cut grass
sunday barbecues
coconut suntan lotion
burned marshmallows…every. time.

I taste your

icey Arnold Palmers 
fresh, ripe berries (rasp, blue, and straw) 
sweaty cheeks on young boy faces at the bedtime farewell (baths are for the birds)

I feel your 

warmth on my skin, exposed, freed from hoodies and cardigans 
perspiration in the places where skin meets skin of my ever-changing body

Ugh 

the folds 

I can’t not notice them, June
I'm trained to respond to my  discomfort as 
a cue to 
reject the outer parts of my body
an edict to 
fix the problem 
a command
to subdue the wildness
the weight

And, yet

Do I reject, fix, or subdue my
nose for smelling the 10-year old’s blackened-to-a-crisp marshmallows
eyes for seeing the cluttered corners
tongue for tasting the salty boy's cheeks 
ears for rousing me from a deep sleep at our neighbor’s daily pre-dawn lawn-care regimen?

Nah

June

You and the body discomforts you bring invite me
to attention and care 
to pause and adjust

Body discomfort does not deserve
rejection and violence 
shapewear and refusal to buy better fitting clothing
starvation and punishing workouts

Go on 

skewer the next marshmallow for another attempt at perfect toastedness 
clear off the counters
run a damp cloth across little boy cheeks (and probably his feet, too)
turn the bedroom fan up one more notch to keep outside noise at bay

For those skin folds 

slip into something loose and breathable 
gently apply powder and anti chafe balm 
float in the pool 
sit naked in front of the box fan 
eat your next meal with gusto

The entire me is here, June

I turn to you in full