POETRY / Massage Poem / Shyla Shehan
A thumb pushes into a pressure point; rolls across
that lump of tension you got in 1992
when it rooted in and called your body home
brought pictures for the walls and planted a tree
for “tomorrow.”
That tree blooms every June
and spreads its seed-like cancer
into lymph nodes
and mostly empty spaces
in your peritoneum.
You didn’t know the terminology
until your first visit with the oncologist
where you sat on your hands and listened close
as if listening would change the outcome.
It wouldn't.
When you check-in
for a 60-minute massage
there’s a form with a section
for pre-existing conditions. As if it matters.
It doesn’t.
Shyla Shehan is an analytical Virgo who rewrites her bio on a weekly basis. Her most noteworthy accomplishment to date is divorcing her (now former) career as a Healthcare IT Integration Specialist. She spends most days tending to a healthy household and burns her midnight oil as an Editor for The Good Life Review. For more please visit shylashehan.com.