Shea Butter

In autumn, I
started to use the bar of
shea butter 
          imprinted with wildflowers
that you made so patiently for me.

          I never allow myself
          to write about you.

It had been wrapped in wax paper
that you had drawn blue hearts on, and
carefully tied tightly with a
piece of twine.

The shea keeps my legs smooth. 
I like it. Did I ever tell you 
about the way my sister pronounces 
shea? "Shay-uh" instead of just "shay."

Today the scars from summer camp
on my left leg decided to reappear and 
they brought back so many memories. 

Those faint, almost arbitrary white slashes 
scattered across my knee and shin are 
there because I tried to run too fast. 

          It's not that surprising.