The Slight Bend

Coffee steamed in the paper cup.

Across the table,

my friend's phone clicked.

Later, the photo. Unexpected.

I saw it then, the slight arc,

a permanent question mark

between my shoulders, pushing forward.

Head jutting, a turtle

reaching for something just out of reach.

It felt like a weight,

made visible.

All the things I carried,

pressed into the soft bone

of my back.

And the shadow it cast

behind me, longer than I'd thought,

a silent, constant leaning

into the next thing.