Marbles

My hips protruded as if in a hurry to arrive before the rest of me

My skin turned blue and began to look like a melancholic painting

Tomboy hands turned to spindly fingers disappearing

Sizes counting down

No lettuce

Too much

Water?

Maybe

I was trapped inside a prison whose keys I held but could not grasp…

And now

Now it’s her hips

Her skin

Her diminishing little fingers…

And I know all too well that my words would make as much difference…

As throwing marbles at Mt. Everest