unfinished

We are taught to fear aging
As we get older
As dust collects in forgotten corners.

We are taught to fear roundness
Though our digestions slow
Though our mothers' bellies balloon into globes
Though someone taught us, long ago, that the world herself is round
(it's now flat -- didja hear?).

We are taught to fear differences.
But nothing stays the same.
Bombs blast buildings
Break bodies
Bring borders.
And our parents don't recognize what we have
As their own.
Strangers in adjacent bedrooms.