I was born too early and too small
like a ruler
my mom used me to measure the coarse muslin
she embroidered with red flowers,
I was happy walking beneath the table
without having to stoop
at times mom left marks of discipline
when I’d forget to call out
and she couldn’t find me in the house.
at school they forgot about me
in the gym among the balls
since then I’ve rolled along
in a dizzying
I was born too early...
I am small, like a defect-effect of perception
I sneak with ease among objects
like a good joke
I play hide-and-seek with a man
tall as the moon.
when I close my eyes at night
I grow up instantly, seeing myself a child
happy to hang on the carpet-beating bar
with no pain or preparation
it is a good exchange of images with the past
mom drew me on a tiny broken corner
of a book page
she made me as small as two lines on a ruler
so I could fit
I have grown some since then...
I am taller
along with my pile of books, my huge drawings
scattered around the house like a white strip
a cache of memories
where mothers at times nick or scribble
how much you’ve grown
now I'm no longer small,
I processed my image
in Photoshop, so even my height is adequate.
with an air ruler, I measure
the divisions of my life.
translated by Adrian G Sahlean