Body Tales II: The Concert

Before the private concert
A stranger’s bedroom
Summer 1997
I’m twenty-three
I’m the musician
The performer
The one to watch
And to hear, hopefully
I zip on silver silk cocktail dress
It fits and it flares
Over my slim roundedness
I like my body
Lovely breasts
Tiny waist
Mum and Dad arrive
An obligatory audience
Mum is always reticent
She bursts into the bedroom
Gives me the once over
And shrieks in disgust:
“Look at you!
Your dress is too tight,
You’re bursting out of it!”
About to perform to dozens
My gut lurches
I say nothing
Hold composure
Stare deadly at her
It would be ten years
Until anyone told me
She was abusive

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