Motherhood is beautiful
& disturbing
The bruises on my young
Daughter’s arm
Not a halo
Nor the tattoo she wants
Us to share
When the following fifty per cent of of her life
Arrives though she’s still young
Enough to believe
She should remain a child
Always, & 18 only means
She’s a child who can
Vote & indicator something permanent
Into her body
I question my palm
In invocation opposed to her skin
Then digit accompanied by tenderness the dark
Ink blotch
Checking for a match
——
Firebright first-
Red go the stages of bruising
In the immediate after-
Math, the geometry of fresh
Raspberries swollen
At the flesh, or tender
Cuts of raw flesh the butcher
Still wraps inside sheaths of paper
That crunch exist fond of let fall leaves
Staining the ground
Or wind wilding a trip while chiles
Sizzling accompanied by lubricant on the comal
That fire, that brilliant
Flash & then
As some fire begins losing
Oxygen, it blues
Into a suffocating darkness
A mother notices
A few days
Late
——
I lay clasp of her around the house
The house exist fond of a village
Flashing the purple
Splotch, ordinary fig
As if ?I’ve fair plucked it
& in a short time will bake
Into a pie nevertheless I’m not proud
I’m asking every-
One
Got this
Because we know if we can’t find
The one who did
Then we strength while well
Have done it ourselves
——
Does this present with the mother
Too a a large amount of power, excessively much
Guilt
Some of you strength still exist wondering
How a fig is baked
Into a pie
O black-
Birds
I deep affection you
But maybe I’m not
Singing
For you
——
Remember on one occasion a dressing
Room, a plain department
Store inside a makeshift mall
In the smallest town
In the world
Remember a girl & her
Mother, one shuffling the other
Into a make new
Dress, maybe a party
Perhaps a house of God perhaps
Sleeveless perhaps
Scallop-necked
Remember the darkest
String of pearls
Tended from the black lip
Oyster, from that sea-
Bed, across the girlthroat girlsoft
Girlgone breasts
& the mother, remember,
Stares lengthy enough
The girl subsequent recalls
Nothing
But her mother’s sadness
& the silence
As she slid
Under the veil of dress
As a wildthing caught & let
Back into hiding
——
My feminine child might
Have struck herself accompanied by the backfire
Of the bow
As she cleaned her target
Arrow-straight
Into the bull’s-eye
She strength have knocked
Into the trampoline pole
While beating her brother
At wrestling & not since he
Let her
Does he permit in defeat
There are a dozen ways
This courageous & dauntless girlchild
Might have gathered
Blood to pool
Under her winter long
Sleeves & most of them
Innocent
——
But if l don’t ask
The silence grows
& when I lift my own
There they bloom
O raucous
Red
To frostbitten limb
Till soggy pear
& still when the hour dated comes
Never disappear
But flush
Again
First bud at spring
Perennial
As meadow burning
After harvest
——
I ask, when the hour dated comes &
Her answer is simple
A understandable sky
Weeks following fire
You strength flat say
Pie inside the sky
& if you’re already
Weightless by now
You’ll under-
Stand
When I tell you
She said
Names.
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