by Grace Rabi
These white lines that permeate through her thighs
Like a tributary gathering northwards at the source
They span the hips where love’s grips lay comfortable but frowned upon
Follow the blanched veins to the stomach where many stories are inscribed
Of motherhood, of illness, of sadness, of poverty
Of contentment, of privilege
Undulating shapes create waves for these channels
The ebb and flow of womanhood
They tell a history
Her story
Like the elastin in her skin, she has grown big and small, been bigged up and shrunken down
These white lines
Like remnants of what has been absorbed and digested
Like the residue of what has been filtered out
Resembling chains of what cannot be released
Testimony to constant rebuilding
A protective caul that withstands
These white lines
Markings of strength
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Grace Rabi (she/her) is a teacher of English and has been so for fifteen years. Travelling is her favourite pastime, having visited over twenty-five countries with her husband. She enjoys writing, particularly poetry and flash fiction. She is an avid consumer of pop culture and enjoys watching a variety of film genres. Grace has also been teaching herself guitar and banjo. She was raised in Canada but currently resides in Ireland.