My son makes a specific face during a bowel movement,
And for some reason it opens my heart
His asshole takes total control of his face
No thought
No emotion
Just that expression, always the same
Expectant, efforting, a bit lost
That face only happens when excrement passes through his sphincter
Is it the animal vulnerability that’s melting my heart?
I think that’s it
And that this window is temporary – soon he’ll close the door
I don’t get to see that face on my husband
He never lets me watch his face as the shit breaks through
And I’ve never watched my own face, nor seen anyone else’s that I can remember
But my youngest, he’s still small
I wipe his bottom every day
And I catch his poop face at least once a week
He’s disappointed if I flush before he and I get a good look,
Briefly musing on the health of what lies in the pot
Then it ’s be-bop back to play
Not an iota of shame, even though somebody else has been fully involved in his shit
Maybe I’ll return to his way someday
Maybe it’ll be you that gets a full view of my poop face
Let’s imagine it’s some evolved future
And not the sad decrepit one where I painfully lay back down and can’t move again for long while
Let’s imagine we be-bop back to play after a good look at some healthy shit