Laurie: A Self Portrait
I look at my reflection as if it were one of someone else.
Brown eyes, indigenous Puerto Rican eyes dance still with youth
at 54 years young.
Almond-shaped, neither too close together, nor too far apart,
Serious lips part almost in awe of its own image.
Created to be held in a vessel much too young-on its nine month journey.
A nose reshaped by a surgeon’s hand at age 16,
Nostrils tapered straight, to purposely not look like Malibu Barbie.
That’s all I will say about my “after” nose,
You don’t want to know what it looked like “before.”
Ears that stick out a little, whom once listened to Guns -n-Roses.
My deadpan demeanor of both light sarcasm and bold satire.
Like, “Why are you laughing? I really don’t mean to be funny.”
Quick wit probably came naturally to me, like it followed me out of the birth canal.
That’s probably where my writing gifts came- wrapped with me in my amniotic sac.
People often ask me how I became so gifted.
I tell them it’s probably because of the Keebler Elves.
I look on at myself with compassion as an imperfect person,
owning myself more than I did when I was younger.
I remember wanting blonde hair instead of my natural brown,
but now I wouldn’t give it away for anything in the world-because it is mine
with its natural red highlights from my Irish ancestors.
My seriousness I observe curiously-
I can only give credit for this to my German and Austrian ancestors.
My reflection reveals something much more than a reflection-
but
-of a person who is real and who has a past of both good and bad-
-of a person who cannot conceive that this is truly Me!
Looking and observing as if only a toddler age 3 and not a grown woman age 54,
fascinated at her own reflection.
Looking with fresh eyes that travel past her reflection,
regarding other things beyond face value.
Such regard runs deeper than what others see, if they would only dig deeper.
Seeing my reflection as I see it,
and not from some so-called vantage point of their own reflections.
See yourself as yourself, but see Me as Me!
This is why I only have a small circle of friends,
who I have known for years.
They have learned my ways, they see me,
regard me
as I was truly meant to be seen,
as I see myself,
as I love myself, or sometimes dislike myself.
Speaking poetically, speaking whimsically,
or not speaking at all.
This is Me, Laurie,
known not by all, but known by enough,
there is safety in smaller numbers-there is joy in smaller circles
of those who understand and truly get it,
of those who can be real with me,
as I can be real with them.
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