brain
belly
bento box
tiny
tidy
just for me
woman dinner makes me
smell like sauted onions
makes a mess in the sink
you cook i clean
she said she has lucky charms for dinner
she says she has a clementine and wine
she says has a nap for dinner
and I start to cry
Can I put a sandbag on your back?
Inhale this
Eucalyptus
There, you go girl.
Breathe, let go, go limp.
We pay to be prompted
told just how to twist to open hips
close those eyes, slack your jaw and open wide.
____________________________
“Body boundaries”
she shouts
and I tickle back
“I don’t like kisses”
so I nuzzle without lips
its fun to feel her thrash—- I giggle —
my niece gives in and giggles too.
“Body boundaries I said, Auntie!”
I say, baby girl, you’re cute.
_______________
See, asking for a body is a test
With one right answer
A ruse, without a backup plan
what happens after no?
No pull cord, no eject from
what’s the setting?
diner booth
hotel bed
conference room
I’ll fluff you for speech
get your coffee
Lie next to you in the King bed, cause I said “it was fine with me” .
“It’s your room, mama—you always choose the channel.
And i didn’t consent to watching Zelinsky
And you never said “thank you”
tiny, slight guerilla warrior, winning ground
lobbing knock knocks and blunt insults between you
i’ll find my way inside.
shock, taunt;
see me. face pressed against the glass
there is no bridge between us
i’ll catapult myself
light myself on fire for a laugh
little sisters were the first class clowns
______________
these sisters have shared toothbrushes
share germs that thrive and reproduce even if its been decades
you bleach your towels too
Shout away stains on your sweater
and tell your girl that her eyes and mouth are holes for germs
( i do it too)
i still hold a vigil
of hand me downs
nail polish paintings and mesh garments that never quite fit me
(or you)
your platforms are back, and stupid as always
GIRL MOTHER 