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My Fat Aunt
When my fat aunt
sits me on her lap,
it’s better than my water mattress.
Her arms are like elastic bands.
If they hug, you stay hugged.

You get tingled up and down
for chuckles. Long, loud laughs
start slowly, in the stomach,
ballooning up the breasts
and like a roller-coaster,
zoom into the throat.

My aunt throws back her head
and laughs.
Cutlery sings and crockery dances.
She cuddles me,
and I find answers
to so many things
that other grown-up people
have forgotten.

When we laugh together,
she and I,
everything feels perfect.