She believed I would become part of the lineage
Which one was not important.
I believed far above the kitchen table, I believed
In color.
I know someday I will miss
The chemical bitterness smell of her hairspray
When a woman of a certain age walks past
I will miss the Chinese restaurant around the corner
From our house
Where for some reason I would always sit on her lap
And kiss her cheek while we waited for our food.
The little barrettes she made for my hair.
Her eyes, as she grew older, smoldered over
Drying to rid me of my pride
Her throat
Sputtered forth the lies
But through my life when I look at the hills across from my house
I want to see only the olives of her skin dancing across the horizon
Her ballerina brown eyes
Woman’s ankles.
Please, her. Please be this sandy moment
And pour through me like I’ve always wanted
Please be water and wine and bark and no envy
Build on all this, all
Of chance
For you, for me
When you hear the faint fluttered wood darkness calling
Go to sleep
Let the spice earth seep in
Like Venus learned to do
Retreat to a seashell
Hear it?
Momma can you hear it?
Taste the soil Momma?
Taste the hallowed Momma soil?
