Time is not a line.
It loops, drapes and folds back on itself, like a ribbon.
Pregnant – it grows, like a sphere.
I can see all of it from now: light refracted into light until I’m left squinting,
stammering, staring into the sun.
It’s why, the moment I first met you, I recognized our daughter’s eyes.
It’s how you can still find my smooth face in crinkled black and white, smiling and young, healthy –
even as my body floats here.
It’s why my dream last night seemed so real. I’m still back there…
No.
I’ve been forward and I already know…
It’s why I shiver when I feel the sun on my face. And feel the empty place in my heart shadowing the too-much, too-full.
Just out of reach…
Everything is here and gone at the same time.
Words and photo © Jaime Greenberg, 2018
