Black and white, my family’s smiles hang on the wall.
I hear their legacies
Stories of adventure, love, and pain.
I can’t help but admire the beauty of it all.
A flash catches them, and, like glue
They get stuck in framed fragments of time.
From amniotic wombs to wooden tombs,
Each lived an entire life to themselves.
Now I sit at dinner and hear of the times in-between.
Their polaroid eyes remind me of my own mortality.
Of my fingerprint in time.
How I have been captured in pictures all the same,
And will one day rot as others come to know my name.
They remind me that time is so fluidly fixed.
That I will be here one day and not the next.
And that I must use this time to build a legacy worth sharing,
To a be woman worth acknowledging.