:::: Tell her
Tuesdays are good days —I know
making time is hard. Make sure she is reading
—make sure she stays
in school; tell her
keep your nails ragged as an architect’s
first skyline to serrate
bodies that want
to claim you, as if claiming is all
they know how to do.
Teach her to throw a punch:
remember to leave
your thumb exposed—she’ll learn
after the first time she breaks
a knuckle.
:::: Tell her:
how we buried baby teeth/first
haircut/christening clothes in a prayer
chest. How precious how adored how
many hours on our knees—
Tell her —send
a school picture to show
—to fall asleep with—
smile like waking to birthday/Christmas mornings.
Tell her I would turn
this world color-blind
for her :::: don’t tell her how much I miss
her/don’t tell I called/don’t tell
Image Credits: Wikimedia Commons
