Not long ago, you tell me,

you willed your untrained eyes

to see the pixelated puzzle, green circles

marking femur, bladder, heart. And now,

after the measuring and weighing,

she’s sitting on a playmat, leafing

through a picture book, but really

looking at you looking at a chart, redrawing

the softness of her arms.

to the bedroom mirror, peeling back

her sleeve, bringing thumb and index finger

to the callipers’ cold touch.