Friday, April 20, 2012

day seven.



my sister was born
on friday the thirteenth,
with blood in her mouth.

she wouldn't take our mother's milk,
stopped breathing twice in her sleep,
nona read scripture over her 
the entire first night.

aunt drina says
she didn't want this life.

she's too attracted to high places
and hot things; fascinated by 
sharp edges. we watch her
in the bath because she
likes to see how long
she can hold her breath. 

we love her,
knowing we'll 
lose her.

she's thirteen now,
and compelled by fire.
nona stays up 
praying all night.

aunt drina and uncle luca
tie bells on all the doors,
sprinkle cinnamon in
the part of her hair.

she falls asleep with the 
windows open, and
wakes up in the fields.

they say she didn't 
want this life. 


stacey clark said...


GQ93 said...

Beautiful, with strong emotions! Great to read.

I'd like your feedback on my poetry too, if you can, it'd be so nice! :)