Inner Woman

Her hands

Slender, soft, smooth

Caress the paper

As she folds

A rectangle then triangle

Precise then torn

Becomes a square

Transformed

Her hands are rough

Hardened and gentle

Crease the square

Angled and layered

Shaped to a pattern

She remembers

So well

Patience required

Her hands misshapen

Joints swollen

Painful

A final inspection

With her mouth she

puffs

Crinkles pop, expand

Origami astounds

Remember

Hands changed by life

Are beautiful with memory

Of all her strife