ME & MY WOMEN THE SAME BROW THE SAME DENTS IN THE HAIR
during dinner my mother & her sisters
get up from the table and
start undulating. my little cousin
is a careful eleven-year-old who starts
watching with eyes wide as
the moon. she starts stepping
side to side as if the room is a prayer with
walls, corollary, eventually all the women left in
my family have congregated in a corner of
the restaurant. my aunt no longer on speaking
terms with god. the one who took me
for a drive, so I wouldn’t
spill on the linoleum. the one
offering me a son to dance with.
each looks like where the sun goes at night.